OUR  COUSIN  VERONICA; 


OK, 


Stones  rob  Sbfentons  ate  % 


BT 


MARY  ELIZABETH  WOBMELEY, 

ADTHOR  OP  "  AMABEL  ;   A   PAMILT  HISTORY." 


'•  Xo,  thou  art  not  my  first  lova— 

I  had  loved  before  we  met, 
And  the  music  of  that  summer  dream 

It  pleasant  to  me  yet. 
But  thou— thou  art  my  last  love, 

My  dearest  and  my  best, 
My  heart  but  shed  its  outer  leaves, 

To  pive  thee  all  the  rest." 


NEW   YORK: 
BUNCE    &    BROTHER,    PUBLISHERS, 

No.    12C    NASSAU  STREET. 

MDCCCLV. 


ENTERED  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  iu  the  year  1855,  by 

BU.VCE  £  BROTHER, 
li.  t!i«  Cl.-rk'n  OlBoe  of  tlio  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


W   H.  TISHOS,  Sten-otyiwr.  0BOMB  RCMBU.  A  Co.,  Prlntt 


TO 

MY    COUSIN    MAEY 

(MRS.  S.  G.  WYMAN), 

WHOSE     LIKE     IS     DEVOTED     NOT     ONLY     TO     THE     WELFARE, 
BUT    TO    THE    HAPPINESS    OF    ALL    AROUND    HER  : 

WHOSE    BRIGHT    EXAMPLE 
TEACHES    THOSE    PRIVILEGED    TO    WALK    IN    THE 

LIGHT    OF    IT, 
THAT    FRIENDS    AND    STRANGERS,    KINSFOLK    AND    ACQUAINTANCE, 

THE    NEEDY    AND    DEPENDENT, 

MAY    DAILY    BE    ENRICHED    BY    THOUGHTFUL    KINDNESS, 

THESE    PAGES,    WHOSE    PROGRESS    SHE    HAS 

ENCOURAGED    BY    HER    SYMPATHY, 

&r«  Sttlettionattb 


2068399 


PART    FIRST. 


The  first  inconstancy  of  unripe  years 
Is  Nature's  error  on  the  way  to  truth. 

H.  TAYLOR,  Edwin  ik«  Fair. 


OUK   COUSIN   VERONICA. 


wra 

* 


CHAP  TEE    I. 

Oh  !  the  little  birds  sang  cast,  and  the  little  birds  sang  west, 

Toll  slowly ! 

And  I  said  in  underbreath,  "  All  our  life  is  mixed  with  death, 
And  who  knoweth  which  is  best?" 
MRS.  E.  B.  BEOWNISG.    Rhyme  of  the  Duchess  May. 

"MAX,  my  boy,"  said  Col.  Mandeville,  as  the  pony  carriage, 
one  English,  autumn  evening,  came  round  to  the  front  door,  "  I 
am  going  to  the  coach  office  to  meet  our  cousin  Lomax.     If  you 
wrap  yourself  up  warm,  and  are  a  good  boy,  I  will  take  you." 
!  papa,  may  not  I  go  with  you  ?"  I  cried. 

I  was  two  years  younger  than  my  brother  Max,  and  I  think 
the  favorite  of  our  father.  His  courtesy  to  the  sex  extended 
itself  even  to  a  female  child,  and  I  often  made  use  of  his  feelings 
upon  this  point  to  obtain  little  advantages  over  my  brother. 

But  this  time  he  answered,  "  No  my  dear ;  cousin  Lomax 
takes  no  interest  in  little  girls.  He  does  not  want  you,  Molly, 
he  wants  Max.  To-morrow  morning  after  breakfast  will  be  time 
enough  for  you." 

"  Oh !  but  papa,  I  want  to  ride  with  you.  I  want  to  go  with 
you.  Do  let  me  come  too." 

1* 


10  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

My  father's  kindliness  was  a  fertilizing  stream  which, 
his  whole  life.  "  I  want  to  go  with  you"  plead  strong  in  my 
favor.  After  all  Max  was  less  his  own  child  than  I  was.'  Max 
by  a  family  arrangement  of  long  standing  was  old  cousin 
Lomax'  heir.  Mr.  Lomax  had  vested  rights  in  him  ;Mvas  con 
sulted  upon  all  his  educational  arrangements ;  and  I — poor  little 
Mary  Mandeville,  my  father  loved  me  better  because  I  would 
have  no  inheritance  except  such  dower  as  he  could  economize 
from  his  pay  as  an  English  Officer. 

"  Mary,  it  is  too  cold  for  you,"  said  our  father's  wife.     Max 
and  I  had  lost  our  own  mother. 

"  Not  too  cold  under  papa's  cloak.     I  am  going  to  keep  close 
to  papa." 

"Tell  Nurse  to  get  you  ready  then.     Don't  keep  the  pony 
waiting,"  said  my  indulgent  father. 

"  Is  she  going  with  us  ?"  said  Max.     "  Make  haste  then  Molly." 

I  made  great  haste,  and  in  a  few  moments  Max  and  I,  wrapped 
snugly  from  the  dews  of  night,  were  sitting  in  the  back  seat  of 
the  four-wheeled  pony  carriage.  Bruin,  the  pony,  had  been 
bought  during  the  last  months  of  our  poor  mother's  life-time. 
Our  father  had  remarried  eighteen  months  after  her  deat 
he  had  been  led  into  his  second  marriage  chiefly  by  the 
tion  of  his  home.  Bruin  had  been  the  "  horsey "  of  our  dear 
mamma,  and  I  do  not  think  we,  any  of  us,  well  liked  to  see  the 
second  Mrs.  Mandeville  in  the  pony  carriage.  He  belonged  to 
a  Welsh  race.  He  was  shaggy  and  black  like  a  dog  of  St. 
Bernard's.  His  mane  stood  up  like  bristles.  The  harness  sank 
into  his  winter  coat  and  made  deep  furrows  in  his  hair.  Max 
said  it  was  longer  than  his  own,  for  he  had  measured  some. 

We  sat  together  in  tho  back  seat  of  the  pony  carriage,  close 
swaddled  in  the  heavy  folds  of  a  military  cloak  of  our  father's. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  11 

My  head  was  pressed  against  my  brother,  and  his  arm  was 
round  me.  Peeping  from  our  nest,  with  eyes  whose  light  was 
bright  like  star-light,  Max  and  I  gazed  on  the  wonders  which 
opened  at  every  turn  upon  our  view.  I  had  never  been  abroad 
after  the  dusk  of  the  long  English  twilight  had  deepened  into 
darkness ;  after  the  lamps  were  lighted  in  the  shops  and  streets, 
and  Uriel  had  set  his  watch  of  starry  sentinels  along  the  darken 
ing  sky.  It  was  a  voyage  of  discovery  into  a  land  of  mystery. 
Familiar  things  loomed  out  along  the  streets  in  unfamiliar  forms. 
Shadows  became  solid  as  mason-work — the  size  of  every  object 
was  increased  by  indistinctness  of  outline.  As  we  drove  along 
a  miserable  alley  in  the  marine  suburb  of  the  county  town 
near  where  we  lived, — foul  and  unwholesome  with  decaying 
garbage,  bordered  by  sailors'  eating-houses  and  slop-shops  with 
strange  scarecrow  garments  flying  idly  in  the  wind — these  forms 
and  the  dark  figures  that  passed  by  us,  half  illuminated  by  the 
lamps  of  our  little  carriage,  seemed  like  unearthly  shapes — like 
night-mare  visions  which  disturb  our  rest  when  the  "terror 
walketh  in  darkness,"  and  the  veiled  figure  of  Calamity  which 
the  imagination  shapes  from  real  events,  stalks  in  the  dim  illimit- 
^hle  future.  Children  who  live  nearer  the  Ideal  world  than  we 
Save  frequent  glimpses  down  many  an  abyss  of  mystery.  Over 
the  spirit  of  a  thoughtful  child,  fall  shadows  projected  from 
events  beyond  his  knowledge.  He  trembles  on  the  borders  of 
the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  from  which  a  life  of  three 
score  years  divides  him. 

We  left  our  cottage  full  of  interest  in  the  voyage  of  discovery 
we  were  about  to  attempt  into  the  darkness ;  but  interest  soon 
deepened  into  awe.  At  first  Max  clamorously  pointed  out  the 
lights  amongst  the  shipping  in  the  harbor,  but  long  before  our 
drive  had  ended  we  sat  hushed.  My  head  lay  quietly  on  the 


12  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

arm  of  Max  :  we  gazed  with  silent  terror  at  the  vague  uncertain 
lights  and  shadows  of  the  earth,  then  lifted  our  eyes  up  to  the 
open  firmament.  Earth  limited  our  view  of  Heaven,  it  is  true, 
but  between  the  roofs  of  houses,  squalid,  dark,  disreputable  (as 
from  their  situation  they  must  have  been  no  doubt)  the 
answering  eyes  of  angels  smiled  down  into  our  childish  hearts 
out  of  the  starry  sky.  We  drove  under  an  archway, — under  a 
brilliant  lamp  with  a  red  bull's  eye.  The  rumbling  noise  and 
change  of  light  burst  the  bubble  of  our  reverie.  We  foiAd 
ourselves  in  the  coach-yard  of  an  old,  strange,  rambling  hostelry. 

"  Mail  not  in  yet,  hostler  ?"  said  our  father. 

"No  sir;  but  the  morning  papers  is  come  down  by  the 
Shannon.  Shall  I  lift  out  the  young  lady,  sir  ?" 

"No,"  replied  our  father,  "not  yet,  I  am  obliged  to  you. 
Hold  the  pony  as  they  sit  here,  and  see  that  they  are  safe  till  I 
return.  Max,  take  good  care  of  Molly — do  you  hear?  I  am 
going  into  the  reading-room.  I  shall  be  back  before  the  mail 
arrives." 

We  had  the  kindest  father,  and  children  are  better,  perhaps, 
for  not  being  tended  too  assiduously.  Still  what  would  our 
mother  in  her  grave  have  said  to  see  us  left  alone  by  ni^fe 
sitting  in  the  pony-chaise,  in  that  strange  court-yard  ?  We  had 
a  kindly,  hearty  nurse,  a  woman  of  warm  feelings  and  consider 
able  powers  of  thought,  who.  gave  us  homely,  hearty,  unintellec- 
tual  sympathy.  Health,  happiness,  and  holiness  should  be  the 
Trinity  of  childhood.  We  had  them  in  our  nursery.  Nor  have 
I  ever  considered  it  disadvantageous  that  we  were  permitted, 
more  than  is  common  amongst  English  children  of  the  highest 
ranks,  to  associate  with  persons  in  stations  of  life  below  our  own. 
The  atmosphere  of  our  nursery  was  so  refined,  that  ill  things 
died  away  and  left  us  pure.  We  loved  our  nurse  so  dearly,  we 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  13 

confided  in  her  so  unreservedly,  that  her  influence  counteracted 
anything  that  might  have  sullied  our  minds,  or  made  our  man 
ners  coarse  in  association  with  other  servants  or  farm  people. 
I  am  glad  to  remember  that  we  played  daily  in  the  fields  and 
stables  with  the  groom  and  the  gardener,  exchanged  greetings 
and  claimed  sympathies  with  the  children  at  the  lodge  of  the 
great  Park,  tumbled  over  in  the  hay  amongst  the  haymake^ 
gleaned  amongst  the  gleaners,  and  gave  them  what  we  gathered, 
and  rode  on  the  harvest  wain,  with  wheat  garlands  round  our 
hats,  receiving  homage  from  the  harvest-men.  Our  father  was 
not  willing  we  should  be  taught  to  isolate  ourselves  from  human 
sympathy,  under  pretence  of  station. 

So  Max  and  I,  left  alone  in  the  coach-yard,  were  probably  less 
afraid  than  many  other  children  would  have  been.  The 
court-yard  was  very  large.  The  inn  had  been  a  princely  man 
sion  in  Queen  Anne's  days,  when  neighboring  gentry  had  town 
houses  in  the  county-town,  and  their  daughters  looked  forward 
to  the  Assize  Ball  or  the  Races.  The  inn-yard,  paved  roughly 
with  small  stones,  but'  now  disfigured  with  wooden  wings  added 
to  the  stone  stables,  and  useful  but  irregular  out-buildings 
erected  for  purposes  connected  with  the  service  of  the  inn,  had 
been  the  former  pleasaunce  and  court-yard. 

The  inn-keeper  had  had  a  forge  put  up,  the  blacksmith  doing 
all  his  Briery  in  consideration  of  his  living  free  from  rent,  and 
picking  up  Lis  profits  from  the  patronage  of  the  neighboring 
gentry.  Nothing  delights  children  like  watching  the  proceed 
ings  of  a  blacksmith.  The  horses  waiting  to  be  shod  inspire 
them  with  sympathy.  There  is  mystery  in  the  Pandemoniac 
glow  proceeding  only  from  the  forge  or  from  the  red-hot  metal. 
Their  sense  of  beauty  is  awakened  by  admiration  of  the 
ruddy  light,  and  of  the  sparks  flying  about  in  every  direc- 


14  OUK     COUSIN     VERONICA. 

tion,  striking  the  smith  upon  his  brawny  arms  and  face  as 
well  as  on  his  leathern  apron.  They  are  interested  by  the  con 
trast  of  the  limited  circle  of  fierce  light  around  the  forge, 
with  the  blackness  of  the  material,  the  person  of  the  smith,  and 
the  dim  dusk  of  the  windowless  smithy.  There  is  a  mysterious 
sense  of  creative  power  and  strength,  a  sort  of  sympathy 
«ith  human  triumph  over  difficulty,  as  the  black  bar,  glow 
ing  red  in  the  fierce  heat,  is  shaped  into  the  form  desired.  Not 
that  children  analyze,  or  ought  to  analyze,  these  sensations. 
They  are  present  very  vaguely  to  their  minds,  they  heighten  the 
interest  of  the  moment,  and  years  after,  if  we  are  wise  enough 
to  remember  the  feelings  and  experiences  of  infancy,  we  appre 
hend  what  we  then  felt,  with  a  certain  reverence  for  our  own 
childish  thoughts.  It  seems  as  if  the  angels  whispered  solemn 
thoughts  into  the  heart  of  childhood,  or  rather,  as  if,  like  the 
sea-shell,  which,  they  say — 


"  Remembers  its  august  abodes, 
And  murmurs  as  the  ocean  murmurs  there," 


a  faint  remembrance   of  secrets  brought  out  of  the  land   of 
mystery  lingered  round  our  spirits  in  our  infant  days. 

So  Max  and  I  watched  the  broad-shouldered,  swarthy 
smith,  bending  into  shape  a  shoe  for  one  of  Sir  Harris  Howard's 
carriage  horses.  We  extricated  ourselves  from  the*olds  of 
the  warm  cloak,  and  knelt  upon  the  seat  of  our  little  car 
riage,  watching  the  beautiful  showers  of  great  sparks  struck  out 
by  every  blow  upon  the  anvil — admiring  the  smith  as  Max, 
A  few  years  later  in  his  boyish  life,  learned  to  admire  every 
great  conqueror.  A  "  blessed  is  he  that  overcometh"  was  in  our 
childish  hearts.  May  the  echo  of  that  truth,  in  its  sublimest 


OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA.  15 

sense,  be  in  my  heart  when  the  gates  of  life  are  closing  behind 
my  steps,  and  I  catch  the  first  faint  vision  of  the  great  White 
Throne  ! 

"We  had  watched  the  smith  ten  minutes,  when  the  guard's 
horn  sounded  in  the  Market-place.  The  sound  brought  our 
father  out  of  the  reading-room.  He  was  afraid  the  pony  might 
prick  his  ears  when  the  mail  came  through  the  archway. 

"  Stay  quiet,  children,  till  I  come  to  you,"  he  said.  "  Max, 
hold  up  your  head,  and  speak  to  your  cousin  Lomax.  Say,  '  I 
am  glad,  sir,  to  see  you  back  from  Virginia.'  You  must  be  half 
a  head  taller  since  he  left  Castleton." 

In  came  the  mail — a  sight  which  in  those  days  gladdened  the 
heart  of  every  Briton.  An  express-train  is  as  national,  but  we 
don't  gaze  on  it  with  equal  pride,  thundering  along  with  iron 
hoofs,  its  smoke,  like  the  tail  of  the  pale  horse,  floating,  as  it 
hurries  on  over  hamlet,  field,  and  river. 

"  Max,  look  after  your  sister,"  were  our  father's  parting  words, 
as  he  went  towards  the  coach -door,  already  surrounded  by  a 
crowd  of  stable  people. 

My  eyes  were  still  attracted  to  the  smithy,  where  there  was 
more  to  interest  me,  than  in  cousin  Lomax,  a  small,  grey-haired, 
blue-eyed  gentleman,  who  had  never  honored  me  Avith  notice  of 
any  kind.  I  saw  the  smith  take  up  the  red-hot  horse  shoe  with 
his  pincers,  and  hold  it  over  the  hoof  of  Sir  Harris  Howard's 
horse.  I  trembled  with  sympathy  for  the  poor  animal  if  he 
should  let  it  fall,  and  was  turning  round  to  impart  the  apprehen 
sion  to  my  brother,  when  the  smith  gave  an  exclamation,  and  I 
followed  the  direction  of  his  eyes.  There  was  a  bustle  round 
the  mail.  I  saw  a  figure — the  embodiment  of  bogy — very  black, 
with  large  gilt  ear-rings  pendent  on  its  neck,  with  a  strange  tur- 
baned  head-dress,  without  bonnet  or  hat,  wringing  its  hands  by 


10  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

the  coach-door.  I  was  frightened  at  first,  and  pressed  closer  to 
my  brother. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  he.     "  It  seems  like  the  Arabian  Nic:hts : 

o  / 

something  is  going  to  happen  I  dare  say.  Don't  you  remember 
the  black  slaves  who  waited  upon  Zobeide  and  all  the  other 
Sultanas?" 

"  Is  it  a  black  woman  ?  How  do  you  know  that,  Max  ?  Oh  ! 
what  a  frightful  face !"  I  cried.  "  But  we  are  in  England 
and  not  Damascus.  Max,  what  sort  of  people  do  you  think 
sultanas  are  now-a-days  ?" 

"They  must  be  very  beautiful,  and  they  have  spells  and 
enchantments,  and  can  order  people  about  and  turn  them 
into  things;  and  at  first  they  may  be  very  kind  to  you,  but 
afterwards,  if  you  offend  them,  and  rouse  them,  they  may  turn 
you  into  birds,  or  beasts,  as  the  Princess  Giahaure  did  King 
Beder.  Don't  you  suppose  that  the  Princess  Giahaure  was 
a  flirt  like  that  Miss  Wells,  who  treated  Captain  Sparks  so  when 
he  wanted  to  marry  her  ?" 

"  Look,  look,  Max,  what  has  papa  got  in  his  arms  ?" 

He  was  coming  out  of  the  crowd,  which  opened  before  him, 
carrying  a  white  bundle  very  tenderly.     It  was  a  little  girl,  per 
haps   six   years   old — one    year  younger  than   I,   three  years 
younger  than  my  brother. 
•    Our  father  set  her  down  in  the  pony  chaise,  and  said — 

"  Take  hold  of  her  little  hand,  Max,  and  cheer  her  up.  Don't 
let  her  get  away;  take  care  of  her  till  I  come  back.  She 
is  your  cousin  Veronica." 

Our  cousin  Veronica!  We  looked  curiously  at  the  tiny 
figure  dressed  in  white.  I  even  lifted  one  of  the  golden  curls. 
She  was  a  slight  child,  very  fair,  and  at  this  moment  very 
frightened — too  frightened  even  to  cry.  She  was  more  delicate 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  17 

and  fairy-like  than  English  children.  We  were  ruddy  little 
creatures,  with  firm,  round,  stout  limbs,  protected  by  warm 
clothing.  Her  white  dress  struck  us  as  unseasonable,  and  yet  it 
gave  her  an  aristocratic  air. 

"Did  you  come  with  cousin  Lomatf,  cousin  Veronica?"  at 
length  we  said. 

After  a  moment  she  began  to  cry,  "Oh!  my  Mammy!  oh, 
my  Mammy !  Where  is  my  dear  Mammy  ?" 

But  she  gave  us  no  answer. 

"You  shall  have  her  presently,"  said  Max.  "Your  mother 
will  be  here  soon.  Stay  here,  dear ;  you  must  stay  here,"  with 
emphasis,  as  she  tried  to  get  out  of  the  little  carriage. 

"  Oh !  there  is  my  Mammy !"  she  said,  stretching  out  her 
hands  after  the  black  woman.  "She  is  going  in  there,  into 
that  house ;  let  me  go  after  her." 

"  No,  no,  dear ;  she'll  come  back." 

"  Oh,  my  papa,  too ;  they  are  carrying  my  papa,  too !"  inter 
rupted  Veronica. 

"Never  mind,  dear;  he  will  come  back.  Stay  with  me 
and  Molly :  we'll  take  care  of  you.  Sit  down,  you  poor, 
cold,  shivering  little  thing ;  sit  right  down  at  the  bottom  of  the 
chaise,  upon  the  cloak,  and  I'll  make  a  little  nest  for  you. 
Watch  those  beautiful  big  sparks  flying  all  about;  I  won 
der  they  don't  put  out  the  blacksmith's  eyes !  See  him  strike 
them  out  with  his  big  hammer.  Mammy  will  soon  come 
to  you." 

"Mammy  is  her  nurse,  I  suppose,"  he  whispered  to  inc. 
"Papa  had  a  black  nurse  in  Virginia — Old  Aunt  Sukey. 
Everybody  has  black  nurses  in  Virginia,  you  know,  Molly." 

As  he  said  this,  he  was  gathering  the  thick  folds  of  the  mili 
tary  cloak  about  our  charge,  till  she  was  really  in  a  little  nest. 


18  OCR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"Now,  Veronica,"  said  he,  "you  can  play  at  being  changed 
into  a  little  bird,  you  know." 

A  more  frightened  and  ungenial  a  playfellow  could  not  be  ima 
gined.  She  had  sat  down,  with  her  eyes  turned  from  the 
sparks,  and  fixed  on  the  inn-door.  They  were  pretty,  soft  blue 
eyes,  but  now,  to  use  our  nurse's  phrase,  they  looked  "  as  wide 
as  saucers ;"  and  though  she  did  not  sob  aloud,  nor  cry,  she 
made  a  little  moan.  Max  sat  down  at  the  bottom  of  the  chaise, 
and  put  his  arms  about  her.  All  soothing  questions,  or 
attempts  to  win  a  look,  were  quite  without  avail.  She  kept  her 
eyes  fixed  steadily ;  and,  no  doubt,  the  poor  little  heart  sickened 
with  .hope  deferred  as  nothing  came.  At  last  the  curtains 
of  the  blue  eyes  slowly  drooped.  The  little  creature  was'worn 
out.  Once  or  twice  she  opened  her  eyes  with  an  effort,  and 
fixed  them  earnestly  again  upon  the  door,  Arougi^  which  she 
expected  her  father  and  her  mammy  would  return.  Then, 
wearied  out  by  the  day's  journey,  and  the  lateness  of  the  night, 
she  sank  into  an  uneasy  slumber.  Max  held  the  cloak  around 

ll'T. 

"  Molly,"  said  he,  "  come  down  and  sit  here  too.  You  can 
creep  into  the  nest.  I  will  put  a  corner  of  the  cloak  over  you." 

"  And  over  you,  Max  ?" 

••  Xo,  I  am  warm  enough,"  said  he  ;  "  cover  yourself  up  in  it. 
\Yc  must  have  been  here  an  hour  I  should  think.  Listen !  The 
Tower  clock  is  striking  ten.  What  will  Nurse  think  of  us  ? 
How  she  catches  her  breath.  She  is  very  pretty.  Prettier  than 
any  little  girl  at  dancing-school,  I  think.  How  very  white  she 
is  too." 

Time  slowly  passed.  Sir  Harris  Howard's  horse  had  long 
been  shod  and  led  into  his  stable.  The  blacksmith  had  shut  up 
his  forge.  The  great  clock  of  the  Tower  Church  had  chimed 


OUR      COUSIX      VERONICA.  19 

half-past  ten.  I  too  had  gone  half  asleep,  when  a  couple  of 
officers  whom  we  knew,  drove  noisily  into  the  court-yard. 

"  Hallo  !  what's  Mandeville's  old  trap  doing  here  at  this  hour 
of  the  night  ?"  said  Captain  Sparks  to  Lieutenant  Jarvis,  "  Quito 
a  family  trap, — full  of  children  I  declare.  Look  here  young 
Mandeville  what  are  you  after  ?" 

We  hated  Captain  Sparks.  He  was  a  man  from  whom 
children,  brought  up  as  we  had  been,  would  shrink  with  instinc 
tive  aversion.  At  being  wakened  rudely  by  his  voice  and  touch, 
and  smelling,  as  he  peered  into  my  face,  his  hot  breath  redolent 
of  brandy,  I  began  to  feel  myself  quite  powerless  in  his  hands. 
I  fancied  that  our  father  had  forgotten  us,  and  given  us  up ;  that 
he  was  never — never  coming  back  again  ;  that  like  the  Babes  in 
the  Wood,  we  were  alone  and  lost.  The  tide  of  utter  desolation 
swept  over  my  spirit.  I  seemed  to  stand  at  one  end  of  a  per 
spective  glass,  and  view  the  life  before  me  stretching  lonely  into 
eternity.  Infinite  vastness  of  misery  opened  before  me  in  a 
moment — infinite  loneliness.  I  began  to  shriek  aloud ;  to  call 
for  "  my  papa — my  own  papa,  my  dear,  dear  papa."  My  cries 
woke  up  Veronica,  who  with  responsive  lamentation  demanded 
her  lost  Mammy.  The  officers  half  tipsy,  stood  amazed  and 
much  annoyed  by  the  clamor  they  had  awakened.  In  vain  they 
coaxed  and  threatened  us  to  make  us  silent.  The  stable-yard 
resounded  with  our  cries.  I  was  unmanageable  with  terror. 
Max  indignantly  reproached  Captain  Sparks  for  waking  us.  I 
insisted  on  getting  out  of  the  chaise  and  finding  my  papa.  And 
Captain  Sparks,  very  willingly  to  annoy  Max  (who  having  just 
learned  to  repeat  "  Cassabianca"  was  bent  on  obeying  orders,  and 
detaining  us  in  the  carriage  till  our  father's  return)  said ;  "  Come 
to  me,  little  Miss  Mary,  I  will  take  care  of  you,  you  little  witch, 
and  we'll  go  and  find  papa."  He  lifted  me  out,  screaming  and 


20  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

red  in  the  face.  He  earned  me  in  his  arms,  holding  the  hands 
with  which  I  attempted  to  push  away  the  Llood-shot  eyes  and 
horrid  lips  with  which  he  tried  to  kiss  me.  Lieutenant  Jarvis 
took  up  Veronica.  Max,  like  a  dog  whose  puppies  are  borne  off, 
was  sullenly  compelled  to  follow  us. 

The  officers  were  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  old  Inn  and  its 
stone  passages.  Captain  Sparks  led  the  way  and  shouted 
"  Waiter !"  with  his  loud  hoarse  voice.  Boots  came  at  the 
summons,  loud  and  coarse,  reverberating  along  the  passages. 

"  "Waiter,  hold  the  light !"  and  he  went  on  with  tipsy  oaths  to 
order  him  to  conduct  him  to  Colonel  Mandeville,  for  that  I — (to 
whom  he  applied  a  very  uncomplimentary  epithet)  kicked, 
screamed  and  struggled  "like  the  very  devil."  "And  I  say 
Boots,"  added  he,  "  better  ring  a  bell  and  wake  'em  up,  if  you've 
got  any  more  children  in  the  house  you  know." 

Boots,  with  his  cat-like  steps,  went  on  before.  At  length, 
after  some  windings  and  turnings,  for  we  had  entered  the 
old  building  by  the  kitchen,  he  stopped  before  a  door,  and 
said  in  a  hushed  voice,  "  It  is  here,  gentlemen  ;  had  I  not  better 
call  out  the  Colonel  ?" 

"Call  him  out?  No!  hang  you!  I'm  not  the  fellow,  am  I 
.Inrvis  ?  to  call  out  my  commanding  officer." 

As  Captain  Sparks  said  this,  with  a  great  ringing  tipsy  laugh, 
the  door  before  which  we  stood  suddenly  opened,  and  a  servant 
of  the  house  came  out,  with  some  towels  in  his  hand,  and  with  a 
pail  of  water.  lie  looked  up  in  the  reveller's  face  with  grave 
reproof,  and  something  awed  both  me  and  Captain  Sparks  in  his 
hushed  manner.  But  at  that  instant,  Veronica  caught  sight  of 
the  turbaned  head  of  her  black  nurse.  She  sprang  from  the 
Lieutenant's  arms,  and  was  in  the  apartment  in  a  moment. 

"  Oh,  my  Mammy  !     Oh,  my  dear  Maminv  !" 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  21 

She  clung  fast  to  her  neck,  and  sobbed — and  sobbed  as  if  her 
little  heart  would  burst.  It  was  not  struggling,  frightened 
grief,  like  mine,  but  something  much  more  piteous.  It  was 
such  an  indulgence  of  grief  as  in  times  of  great  repression  one 
lias  yearned  for,  saying,  "  Ah !  when  all  is  over — when  the 
clouds  have  broken,  and  the  storm  is  past,  I  may  lay  down 
my  weary  head,  and  weep  and  weep,  and,  tell  then,  for  the  first 
tinie,  how  wretched  I  have  been." 

Max  and  I  saw  our  father  and  cousin  Lomax  also  in  the 
chamber.  The  officers,  sobered,  had  drawn  back ;  but  our  father 
beckoned  us,  and  Max  and  I  went  in.  The  window  was  opened 
on  to  the  clear  night,  and  full  into  the  chamber  shone  the 
frosty  stars.  What  was  it  made  us  shudder  as  we  stepped 
in  lightly,  drawing  closer  to  each  other,  holding  our  breath,  and 
clasping  each  other's  fingers  ?  We  stood  for  the  first  time  face 
to  face  Avith  death;  and  though  no  person  told  us  what  had 
taken  place,  we  recognized  by  instinct  traces  of  the  Destroyer. 

We  knew  that  rigid  solemn  whiteness  in  the  centre  of  the 
room  (they  had  removed  it  from  tho  bed  on  to  a  couch)  was 
the  dead  body.  Awful,  awful  outline  of  what  had  been  life, 
lying  under  that  white  sheet  waiting  for  its  coffin ! 

Cousin  Lomax  and  our  father,  with  awestruck,  solemn  faces, 
stood  apart  from  it.  They  spoke  with  hushed  voices ;  they  trod 
with  hushed  feet.  They  were  still'men,  and  this  cold  clay  had 
also  been  a  man,  but  was  a  man  no  longer.  To  us,  children, 
it  seemed  as  if  we  heard  the  very  rushing  of  the  wings  of 
the  Death  Angel ;  the  cold  air  in  which  wo  shivered  had  been 
parted  by  his  flight ;  he  had  quenched  the  spark  of  life — borne 
off  the  soul — left  that  behind  (ashes  to  ashes,  dust  to  dust)  to  be 
gathered  to  its  earth,  and  taken  his  strong  flight  to  the  immor 
tal  stars.  Our  father  stepped  forward,  folded  back  the  covering 


22  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

from  the  awful  face,  and  turned  to  us.  "  Come,"  said  he,  "  and 
look  at  him." 

That  icy  look  froze  itself  into  my  heart.  I  have  seen  death 
since,  but  this  first  view  remains  my  type  of  it.  It  was  a  man 
apparently  about  fifty  years  old,  tall,  and  grey  haired,  with 
a  high  forehead ;  even  in  life  the  features  must  have  been 
sharply  chiselled.  He  had  probably  been  out  of  health  for 
some  time,  for  he  was  much  attenuated. 

Oh !  awful  to  our  childish  hearts  wras  the  unbreathing,  frozen 
stillness  which  had  settled  on  his  features.  "We  realized  that 
darkness  lay  under  the  lids  of  those  closed  eyes ;  we  realized 
those  rigid  hands  could  never  be  drawn  apart.  The  soul 
had  put  off  this  her  tabernacle.  Nurse  had  taught  us  heavenly 
truths.  I  instinctively  realized  the  necessity  of  immortality,  and 
ever  since  that  moment  this  conviction  has  been  prominent 
in  my  thoughts,  whenever  I  have  stood  beside  the  dead. 

Every  line  of  his  fixed  face  came  out  as  the  blood  retreated 
further  and  further  from  his  features.  Every  little  scar,  even  the 
hurts  of  infancy,  over  which  his  mother,,  long  since  in  her 
own  grave,  may  have  grieved,  revealed  themselves  as  flaws  upon 
the  livid  whiteness.  The  features  had  been  drawn  into  a  smile, 
not  natural,  I  should  think.  A  smile  they  never  were  to  lose, 
day  nor  night — long  days  and  many  nights — till  they  changed 
with  dreadful  change  such  as  one  dares  not  even  think  of — 
changing  in  the  dark — in  the  closed  coffin. 

The  old  black  Mammy,  in  her  strange,  quaint  dress,  sat  at  the 
dead  man's  feet,  and  about  her  clung  Veronica. 

"  Oh !  look  at  him,  honey,"  she  cried.  "  Thar'll  be  a  change 
in  his  dear  face.  Look  at  him,  honey ;  look  at  him !"  she 
repeated,  finding  the  orphan  did  not  stir.  "  Honey,  your  pa  is 
dead.  Your  poor,  poor  pa  is  dead ;  you's  'lone  in  all  de  worl', 


OUR      COUSIN      VEfc.ONICA.  23 

honey.  We's  far  from  old  Varginny,  in  a  strange,  new  land. 
You's  nobody  left  you  now,  'cepts  your  poor  Mammy." 

Veronica  would  not  look  up.  "We  could  see  by  the  strained 
muscles  of  her  rigid  little  hands  how  tightly  she  had  clasped 
them  round  her  nurse,  who  also  held  her  close,  laying  the 
child's  cheek  on  her  ample  breast,  and  rocking  herself  to  and 
fro. 

"  Oh !  honey,  to  think  he  should  have  brought  us  all  this  long 
way,  honey — over  the  seas,  and  in  the  ships,  and  just  to  die  so 
mighty  soon.  An'  all  'lone,  too,  honey.  None  of  his  own  ser 
vants,  nor  nobody  'bout  him,  'seps  poor  Mammy.  Oh  !  my  dear 
Mas'r !  The  Lord  he  knows !  The  Lord  he  knows !  Take  dis 
stroke  'way,  Lord !  Oh !  my  dear  Mas'r.  Oh !  honey,  be 
a  good  girl,  honey,  and  den  when  de  Angel  Gabriel's  a  comin' — 
comin',  darlin',  for  to  fetch  away  poor  Mammy — ah !  you's 
be  'lone  den — all  'lone.  All  'lone,  in  this  wide  worl',  widout 
Mammy.  And  de  worl'  mighty  big,  and  mighty  bad  worl'  my 
sweet  honey !  Oh  !  honey,  look  at  his  poor  face.  Look  at 
his  face,  dat  allerst  had  a  smile  on  it  for  us,  honey.  I'se 
gwine  to  sit  by  him.  I'se  gwine  to  watch  by  him  till  dey's 
come  put  him  in  de  coffin.  You  hasn't  got  nothin'  else 
left,  honey,  nothin'  else  left  now  but  poor  old  Mammy, 
chile ;  and  he  was  mighty  rich,  mighty  rich  once.  I  tell 
you  he  was,  honey !  When  I  w?!fe  a  little,  black  gi^,  jus 
growed  up,  tendin'  on  Miss  Edmonia,  your  grandma,  honey, 
thar  warn't  no  kind  a  young  man  in  all  our  section  o'  country 
was  any  kind  o  'count  compared  with  my  young  Mas'r.  And 
he's  lying  dead  here,  an'  I'se  laid  him  out.  Lying  dead,  honey, 
an'  no  soul  but  old  Mammy  dat  knowed  him,  'seps  his  brother. 
I'll  sit  by  him  till  he's  buried,  honey.  Ole  Mammy  ain't  gwine 
to  leave  him,  honey.  She'll  sit  by  him  all  this  blessed  night, 


24  O  U  R      0  O  U  S  I  N       V  K  K  O  X  I  C  A •  . 

•in'  don't  care  if  de  witches  comes.  Dey  won't  scare  Mammy 
'way  from  her  ole  Mas'r,  honey." 

Cousin  Lomax  approached,  and  was  about  to  lay  the  sheet 
over  the  face,  but  Mammy  rising,  with  her  burden  in  her  arms, 
stood  by  him,  and  prevented  him. 

"  Not  yet,  Mas'r  Thomas.  She  must  look  once  more  at 
his  face.  Vera!  look  up  at  your  poor  pa.  Look  at  him, 
honey." 

She  forced  the  child,  still  clinging  to  her  breast,  to  raise  her 
face.  It  was  a  cruel  kindness.  She  gave  one  quick  glance,  then 
shrieked,  and  went  into  convulsions  in  the  nurse's  arms. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  25 


CHAPTER    II. 

The  thought  of  our  past  years  in  me  doth  breed 
Perpetual  benediction 

For  those  first  affections, 

Those  shadowy  recollections, 

Which,  be  they  what  they  may, 
Are  yet  the  fountain  light  of  all  our  day. 

WORDSWORTH. 

I  DON'T  remember  well  what  happened  next.  There  was  con 
fusion  in  the  inn  as  well  as  in  the  chamber.  A  doctor,  Avho  had 
been  somewhere  unperceived,  came  forth,  and  took  up  our  little 
cousin.  They  put  her  in  a  warm  bath,  and,  by-and-by,  wrapped 
in  a  blanket,  they  laid  her  into  our  father's  arms,  who  carried 
her  down  stairs  to  the  carriage. 

When  I  opened  my  eyes,  very  late  in  the  morning,  nurse  was 
sitting  by  the  fire,  altering  my  pen-ultimate  merino  frock.  I 
was  not  lying  in  my  bed,  but  on  a  temporary  couch,  made  up  on 
chairs,  while  my  own  place  was  occupied  by  Veronica. 

I  lay  quiet  a  few  moments.  My  mind  was  slowly  piecing- 
together  the  disjecta  membra,  of  the  recollections  of  the  night. 
I  recalled  the  hours  in  the  frosty  night  air  waiting  in  the  coach- 
yard — my  dread  of  Captain  Sparks,  which  made  me  shudder — 
my  agony  at  having  lost  all  trace  of  my  dear  father — and 
tender,  sympathizing  pity  stole  into  my  heart,  as  I  thought 
of  the  orphaned  little  Veronica.  I  recalled  the  loud  moan 

2 


26  OUR     C  O  C  S  I  X      VERONICA. 

of  her  colored  nurse,  "  All  'lone,  all  'lone,  all  'lone,  in  dis  wide 
worl'  honey  !"  and  my  heart  melted  within  me. 

The  nurse,  though  I  had  no  time  to  think  of  her  before, 
became  one  of  the  prominent  objects  in  my  retrospect.  That 
figure  in  bronze  beside  the  awful  marble.  At  that  period,  West 
India  Emancipation  was  the  subject  of  the  day.  The  news 
papers,  which,  during  my  father's  widowerhood,  no  one  had 
restricted  me  from  reading,  had  curdled  my  young  blood  by 
revelations  of  slave  life  in  the  colonies. 

Many  of  the  persons  who  came  to  our  house  took  no  sugar  in 
their  tea,  because  sugar  had  been  raised  by  slave  labor ;  and  the 
question — could  Veronica's  old  Mammy  be  a  slave — and  Bad 
Veronica  the  right  to  slap  her,  and  ill  treat  her,  and  stick  pins 
into  her  (for  of  such  things  I  had  read)  agitated  my  mind 
exceedingly. 

From  this  reverie,  however,  I  was  soon  awakened.  Nurse 
seeing  that  my  eyes  were  open,  suggested  I  had  better  get  up. 
She  was  going  to  wake  up  Master  Max,  and  when  we  were  both 
dressed  we  were  to  breakfast  in  the  parlor. 

"  And  what  are  you  doing  with  my  frock  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Altering  it  until  she  gets  her  black  one.  She'd  catch  her 
death  of  cold  in  that  white  flimsy  thing  "  said  Xurse,  pointing  to 
the  garments  of  poor  little  Veronica. 

This  made  Veronica  seem  much  more  real  than  anything  had 
done  before.  Very  little  would  have  persuaded  me  she  had  been 
but  a  creation  of  my  brain,  like  daily  visions,  among  which  my 
life  was  passed,  of  the  Princess  Giahaure,  Queen  Gulnare,  and 
the  Sultana  Zobeide,  who,  by  the  way,  is  a  remarkable  delinea 
tion  of  that  to  which  the  higher  type  of  womanhood  must 
degenerate  under  the  blighting  influence  of  the  Zenana. 

Max  came  stealing  into  the  chamber  holding  his  shoes. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  27 

"  Oil !  let  me  look  at  her,"  said  lie,  and  going  up  to  the  bed, 
he  bent  over  Veronica.  The  child's  cheek  was  flushed  with 
sleep,  a  delicate  faint  bloom  upon  her  tender  skin  made  her 
exquisitely  pure  complexion  even  purer  than  its  whiteness. 
Even  in  sleep  you  could  have  told  that  her  eyes  were  blue,  by  the 
purple  line  under  the  fringes  of  her  eyelids. 

"  Oh !  Nursy,  isn't  she  pretty  ?"  exclaimed  Max. 

"  Well  Master  Max,"  said  Nurse,  whose  weak  point  it  was  to 
consider  that  the  praise  of  other  children  disparaged  her  own 
brood,  "  if  you  ask  me  if  I  like  those  kind  of  looks,  I  don't.  I 
like  something  much  more  healthy.  I  don't  see  any  beauty  in 
a  sickly  skin.  Look  at  your  little  sister's  rosy  cheeks,  and  at 
your  own  ;  there's  health,  just  what  there  ought  to  be.  And 
your  limbs  is  firm  and  round."  Max  and  I  discouraged  by  this 
disparagement,  were  rather  ashamed  of  our  taste.  We  felt  quite 
grateful  to  nurse,  when  a  few  minutes  after,  as  she  brushed  our 
hair,  she  spoke  pitifully  of  the  bereavement  of  Veronica. 

"  She  is  our  cousin,  Nurse,"  said  I. 

"  Well,"  said  Nurse,  in  a  very  chilly  way,  looking  at  Max, 
"  not  first  cousin  I  hope.  I  don't  see  no  likeness  to  the  family." 
But  by  and  by,  when  the  poor  little  child  woke  up,  Nurse  showed 
her  goodness  of  heart  in  all  she  did  for  her.  Max  and  I  thought 
she  had  never  done  so  much  for  us ;  nor  spoken  with  so  soft  a 
voice,  nor  cared  for  us  so  kindly,  and  could  not  help  beginning 
to  wish  that  we  too,  could  be  taken  ill,  for  the  sake  of  those 
caresses.  »5he  propped  her  up  in  bed,  she  made  her  a  nice  cup 
of  tea  in  the  gilt  cup  kept  for  good  children.  She  called  her 
"  my  poor  lamb,"  and  seemed  as  if  she  could  not  do  enough  for 
her.  By  and  by,  when  she  had  made  her  comfortable,  she  called 
us  to  the  bed,  and  told  us  that  we  might  amuse  our  little 
cousin. 


28  ()  I    II      C  O  U  S  I  N"      V  E  U  O  X  I  C  A  . 

But  the  poor  child  was  too  listless.  She  did  not  ask  after  her 
Mammy,  but  her  eyes  turned  wistfully  to  the  nursery  door.  Max 
brought  out  his  jack-straws,  and  emptying  Nurse's  needle-book 
when  her  back  was  turned,  proceeded  with  his  magnet  to  show 
how,  as  lie  said,  "  the  needles  would  walk  after  it  across  the 
pillow,"  but  even  this  wonder  failed  to  excite  any  responsive 
interest  in  the  little  Veronica ;  till,  by  and  by,  tired  of  our  ill- 
success,  we  left  her  to  be  amused  and  soothed  by  Nurse,  and 
went  into  a  corner  by  ourselves,  where  we  repeated  to  each 
other,  as  appropriate,  the  Burial  of  Sir  John  Moore. 

The  third  morning  after  her  arrival,  nurse  dressed  her  in  a 
new  black  frock,  for  which  she  had  been  measured  the  day  she 
came.  Our  father  came  into  the  nurseiy  during  our  breakfast, 
and  took  her  up  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  her  on  the  forehead. 

"  A  very  still  and  gentle  little  creature,  Nurse,  he  said." 

"  Very  still  indeed,  sir,"  she  replied,  "  not  one  atom  like  Miss 
Molly." 

"  "Well,  keep  the  blinds  well  down  till  after  one  o'clock,  for  we 
shall  pass  this  way.  Mind  what  I  tell  you,  children  !  don't  you 
let  your  little  cousin  look  out  of  the  window,"  he  added  in  a 
whisper. 

Thus  cautioned,  we  proposed  to  her  to  play  at  gipsies,  an 
unexciting  amusement,  which  consisted  principally  in  sitting  in 
the  dark  under  a  tent  formed  by  four  nursery  chairs,  and  a 
green  baize  curtain.  The  blinds  were  down,  as  our  father  had 
desired,  but  as  Nurse  was  very  busy  fitting  up  a  chamber  in  the 
upper  story,  we  had  nobody  to  prevent  our  peeping  out  from 
time  to  time  to  see  why  our  father  had  ordered  us  to  keep 
them  so. 

About  ten  o'clock  we  heard  several  carriages  going  past  the 
house  at  a  slow  pace,  and  desiring  Veronica  to  stay  close  in  the 


O  U  11      COUSIN      VERONICA.  29 

tent,  and  be  a  good  gipsy,  we  lifted  up  one  corner  of  the  blind 
and  looked  out.  It  was  a  stately  funeral.  Four  horses,  coal- 
black,  with  black  plumes  upon  their  heads,  and  velvet  trappings, 
drew  the  hearse.  Three  mournino-  coaches  followed.  All  but 

O 

the  first  was  empty.  That  held  our  father,  cousin  Lomax  and 
old  Mammy.  We  watched  the  slow  procession  as  it  passed, 
admiring  the  prancing  horses  and  the  nodding  plumes.  As  we 
looked,  another  breath  beside  our  own  was  on  the  window  pane, 
— another  little  face  was  pressed  to  the  glass  with  ours. 

"  Oh  !  Molly  !"  cried  Max,  "  she  must  not  stay  and  look.  Go 
back,  Veronica,  into  the  tent ;  indeed  you  must  not  look  out  of 
the  window." 

But  the  child  did  not  obey  him.  She  watched  her  father's 
funeral  until  it  passed  out  of  sio-ht.  I  do  not  know  whether 

1  o 

she  saw  her  nurse.  I  do  not  know  whether  she  knew  whose 
funeral  it  was,  but  she  went  back  into  our  gipsy  tent  and 
remained  perfectly  still. 

After  an  hour  the  sound  of  wheels  was  heard  again,  and  Nurse 
came  into  the  chamber.  She  hurriedly  drew  up  the  curtain. 

"  Here's  her  nurse  arrived,"  said  she,  and  we  looked  out.  One 
of  the  mourning  coaches  drew  up  at  the  door.  The  mourners 
were  getting  out  of  it. 

u  Veronica,  your  Mammy  is  come,"  we  said,  and  running  to 
the  tent  we  tried  to  pull  her  out  by  the  hand.  But  she  shrunk 
back,  nor  did  she  come  out  of  the  hiding-place  even  when 
Mammy,  calling  her,  "  Whar's  you  got  to,  my  sweet  honey  ?" 
stood  at  the  nursery  door.  Either  she  associated  her  nurse  with 
the  painful  scene  of  death,  or  her  little  heart  had  been  sore 
wounded  by  her  absence  during  days  in  which  she  had  longed 
and  watched  for  her.  I  think  the  latter  was  the  case.  It  would 
have  been  in  accordance  with  her  character. 


30  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

So  Mammy  and  Veronica  became  inmates  of  our  nursery.  It 
never  occurred  to  any  one  that  Mummy  should  not  take  her 
meals  with  us,  as  our  own  nurse  did.  And  though  she  fre 
quently  declared  "  she  waru't  'customed  take  her  food  with  white 
folks,"  hers  was  the  only  protest  entered ;  but  she  ate  with  her 
knife,  and  I  cannot  say  Nurse  liked  her. 

Veronica,  after  the  first  moments  of  her  estrangement,  occa 
sioned  by  the  shock  to  her  little  heart,  hung  round  the  ample 
skirts  of  her  black  nurse,  with  a  sort  of  watchful  wistmlness  and 
exclusiveness  of  affection.  "  Mammy  ain't  gwiue  leave  her 
dear  chile,  honey,"  the  old  woman  used  to  say.  But  Veronica 
would  not  separate  from  her  a  moment,  and  it  was  only  holding 
Mammy's  hand  that  she  could  be  induced  to  go  into  the  parlor. 

Of  an  evening,  sitting  round  the  nursery  hearth,  in  the  long 
twilight,  Mammy  would  tell  us  wondrous  tales ;  how  negroes, 
svalking  in  the  woods,  or  "  stealin'  white  folks'  corn,"  saw  ghosts 
and  witches — stories  which  irritated  our  own  nurse,  who  dealt  in 
legitimate  fairies. 

>:  Your  papa  wouldn't  like  you  to  listen  to  them  things,"  she 
used  to  say.  "  There  ain't  no  word  of  truth  in  anything  she's 
telling  you."  Whereby  we  understood  that  a  patent  of  veracity 
was  taken  out  in  favor  of  Tom  Thumb  and  Cinderella,  and  the 
rest  of  her  own  stories. 

Sometimes,  at  dusk,  though  Xurse  said  something  about 
"  spoiling  precious  eyesight,"  Max  read  aloud  to  us  by  the  light 
of  the  glowing  coals.  The  first  series  of  the  Tales  of  a  Grand 
father,  then  just  published,  with  its  glorious  stories  of  Randolph 
and  Black  Douglass,  and  its  wild,  graphic  pictures  of  border  life, 
was  his  delight ;  as  was  also  a  book  of  stories  of  Lord  Xelson. 
This  latter  was  an  American  reprint,  and  the  most  moving  chap 
ter  was  the  storv  of  Prince  Carraccuoli. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  31 

But,  one  evening,  while  Veronica  was  sitting  with  her  head 
upon  old  Mammy's  knees,  and  holding  fast  by  her  wide  apron, 
Max  and  I  a  little  apart,  were  bending  over  the  Arabian  Nights. 
Our  story  was  King  Beder  and  the  Princess  Giahaure.  We  read 
how  the  young  king  pretended  to  sleep,  and  heard  the  descrip 
tion  of  her  beauty.  How  he  became  violently  enamored  of  her, 
saying  with  the  poet, 

"  I  loved  her  when  her  qualities  were  described,  for  sometimes  the  ear  loveth  before 
the  eyes." 

How  he  persuaded  Saleh,  the  sea-green  whiskered  potentate,  his 
uncle,  to  present  him  and  his  suit  to  Giahaure's  father,  "  stupid, 
overbearing,  of  little  sense,  of  great  power,  and  niggardly  of  his 
daughter  in  marriage."  How  King  Saleh  and  King  Beder 
proceeded  to  the  caverns  of  the  sea ;  and  how  their  civil  suit 
accompanied  with  two  leathern  bags,  "  each  a  slave's  load,"  "  full 
of  jewels,  and  jacinths,  and  oblong  emeralds,  and  precious  mine 
rals  of  all  kinds,"  in  exchange  for  "  the  unique  pearl — the  Princess 
Giahaure — the  jewel  under  the  sea,"  was  refused  despitefully. 
How  Saleh's  men  and  captains,  lying  without  the  palace,  rushed 
forward  sword  in  hand.  How  Giahaure,  waking  in  her  harem,* 
took  to  flight,  and  springing  from  the  water,  took  refuge  in  an 
island  above  the  surface  of  the  sea.  How  Beder,  "  led  by  the 
destinies  fixed  before  all  time,"  sought  refuge  in  the  same  lone 
spot,  and  beheld  his  inamorata  sitting  in  the  boughs  of  a  great 
tree.  How  he  made  his  suit  upon  his  knees  to  the  tree-nymph. 
How  she,  wondering  at  his  perfections,  was  much  disposed  to  fall 
in  love  with  him.  But  soon  discovering  in  him  an  honest  suitor, 
who  would  have  been  a  good  match  at  any  time,  her  pride  per 
versely  rose  against  accepting  him.  How  to  have  him  in  her 
power,  she  "  beguiled  and  spake  him  fair,  with  gentle  words,  and 


32  o  u  u    c  o  U  s  i  x     v  E  it  o  x  i  c  A  . 

soft  discourse,  till  his  love  for  her  inflamed,  and  he  approached 
her  to  caress  her,"  and  then  how  Giahaure,  flinging  water  in  his 
face,  said  to  him  :  "  be  changed  from  this  human  form  into  the 
form  of  a  bird,  the  most  beautiful  of  birds,  with  white  feathers 
and  red  feet  and  bill  ?'' 

Again  the  question  Tose  with  us,  "  What  was  a  flirt  ?"  Had 
Giahaure  been  a  flirt  ?  Had  she  treated  King  Beder  as  Captain 
Sparks  had  been  treated  by  Miss  Wells  ? 

"  Don't  let  me  hear  you  talk  such  nonsense,"  said  Nurse,  when, 
after  paying  no  attention  to  our  discourse  for  some  time,  she 
began  to  perceive  what  we  were  talking  of.  "  Don't  talk  of  flirts, 
or  anything  of  that  kind.  That  is  not  proper  talk  for  young  ladies, 
and  gentlemen  such  as  you.  As  to  that  Miss  Wells,"  she  added, 
"  she  made  herself  the  talk  of  all  the  officers.  Never  let  me  hear 
you  speak  of  flirting  again,  either  of  you." 

"  Law's  sakes  ?"  said  old  Mammy,  rousing  up,  "  why  flirtin'  is 
what  all  our  ladies  does  whar  I'se  come  from.  All  de  gals  in  old 
Varginny  has  beaux  and  plenty  on  'em,  an'  dey  winds  'em  jist 
like  dat,"  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  and  twisting  the  string 
of  her  apron  round  her  fingers.  "  Vera,  chile,  you's  have  plenty 
•  beaux  when  you  grows  up,  honey." 

"  Well,"  said  Nurse,  with  a  sharp  toss  of  the  ribbons  of  her  cap, 
"I  hope  Miss  Veronica  will  go  back  to  where  she  came  from 
before  then.  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  think  I  was  ever  going  to 
have  all  the  regiment  talking  of  my  Miss  Molly.  I  don't  like  to 
have  the  children  told  about  such  things.  I  hope  she  will  marry 
a  good  respectable  man,  when  she's  grown  up.  Flirting  is  a  thing 
I  can't  abear.  It  is  not  accounted  lady-like  in  my  country. 
And  while  she  stops  in  my  nursery  her  papa  don't  wish  any  such 
talk  as  that  should  bo  put  into  her  ears." 

"  Laws  now !  never  hear'd  tell  dere  was  no  harm  flirtin',"  said 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  33 

Veronica's  black  Mammy.  "  Dere  was  a  young  gal  over  to  our 
parts  was  engaged  to  two  of  her  beaux  to  once.  Her  pa  owned 
a  farm  down  to  Laurie's  Mill — that  way." 

"  But  Nursey  dear,"  said  I,  "just  tell  us  what  it  is  to  be 
a  flirt." 

';  To  be  a  flirt,"  said  Nursey,  in  a  huff,  "  is  playing  off  and  on 
with  a  young  man  when  a  girl  don't  want  to  marry  him.  It  is 
what  no  young  lady,  properly  brought  up,  would  ever  be  guilty 
of.  It  may  answer,"  she  said  in  a  lower  tone,  "  for  people  who 
live  among  blacks,  and  such  as  them." 

Veronica  sat  looking  at  the  grate,  without  appearing  to  notice 
what  we  were  saying.  Max  said  she  was  too  young  to  under 
stand  the  Arabian  lights,  and  he  left  me  and  went  round  to  her 
and  pulled  her  curls,  which  made  her  shake  her  head,  and  desire 
him  to  get  away  from  her,  which  he  did  not  do  by  any  means, 
and  before  long,  she  was  on  his  knees,  and  was  letting  him  very 
shyly  begin  a  game  of  romps  with  her. 

There  were  frequent  discussions  in  the  parlor  during  the  fort 
night  that  they  spent  with  us.  I  understood  that  cousin  Lomax 
would  have  been  glad  to  leave  Veronica  and  Mammy  to  share 
our  nursery.  But  our  father  objected.  His  wife  was  but  a 
bride,  and  had  taken  the  charge  of  his  own  little  ones ;  he  did 
not  wish  to  see  her  troubled  with  another  little  girl  and  a 
strange  attendant. 

O 

Cousin  Lomax,  after  many  hesitations,  decided  on  taking 
Veronica  and  Mammy  to  his  own  bachelor  home.  It  was 
a  very  splendid  place  in  Yorkshire,  in  the  East  Riding.  Max 
was  its  heir,  and  we  had  been  there  once  during  our  mother's 
life-time.  There  were  three  hundred  acres  of  fine  land,  a  park, 
and  a  large  house  called  Castleton. 

Cousin  Lomax  invited  us  to  spend  a  month  with  him  when 

2* 


34  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

summer  came,  and  cheer  our  little  cousin.  Our  father  and  ho 
laughed.  "  Max,"  said  cousin  Lomax,  "  if  I  should  tell  you  she 
should  be  your  little  wife,  how  would  you  like  her  ?" 

"  I'd  like  her  very  much,  if  she'd  like  me  sir,"  replied  Max. 
Our  father  patted  the  boy's  head,  and  said  that  was  the  proper 
answer. 

"  Aye,  aye,"  said  cousin  Lomax.  "  She  promises  to  grow  up 
pretty,  too.  Her  father  was  a  good-looking  man,  and  had  a 
handsome  wife.  A  remarkably  good-looking  man  was  my  poor 
brother  Alonzo." 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  35 


CHAPTER    III. 

But  let  that  man  with  better  sense  advise, 
That  of  the  world  least  part  to  us  is  read, 
And  daily  how  through  hardy  enterprise, 
Many  great  regions  are  discovered 
Which  to  late  age  were  never  mentioned. 
Who  ever  heard  of  th'  Indian  Peru? 
Or  who,  in  venturous  vessel  measured 
The  Amazon  huge  river,  now  proved  true  ? 
Or  FRUITFULLEST  VIRGINIA  who  did  ever  view  ? 

SPEXSER.    Fairy  Queen. 

THOSE  who  sneer  at  the  passion  for  family  in  the  Old  Domi 
nion,  say  that  there  are  no  "  second  "  families  in  Virginia :  that 
according  to  Virginians,  every  dweller  in  the  State  inscribes  after 
his  name  an  F.  F.  V.  That  is,  a  member  of  one  of  the  First 
Families  of  Virginia. 

Absurd  as  the  truth  embodied  in  this  sneer  may  be,  there  is 
no  better  blood  in  Adam's  family  than  may  be  found  in  the 
descendants  of  the  old  Cavaliers.  Of  late  years,  since  the 
abolition  of  the  laws  of  entail  and  primogeniture,  so  eloquently 
lamented  by  John  Randolph,  our  late  kinsman,  Ichabod  has  been 
written  over  all  their  escutcheoned  gate-posts  and  old  hospitable 
doors. 

The  ancient  lords  of  the  soil — the  ante-Revolutionary  Aris 
tocracy,  left  impoverished  estates  to  be  divided  amongst  their 
families.  The  children  of  their  servants  till  the  cotton  lands  of 


36  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Alabama,  Louisiana  and  Mississippi,  and  the  sons  of  overseers 
reign  in  their  masters'  stead. 

Nothing  is  less  interesting  at  the  beginning  of  a  book,  than  the 
genealogical  vanities  apt  to  commence  biography.  But  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  that  I  should  give  my  reader  some  account 
of  our  own  family  history.  It  will  not  take  him  long  to  read 
how  old  we  were,  how  rich  we  were,  how  proud  we  were  in  days 
of  yore.  Nor  could  he  make  the  acquaintance  of  any  Virginian, 
and  escape  being  told  parallel  particulars  at  the  beginning  of  the 
intimacy.  Mine  is  a  true  record  ;  very  similar  to  that  of  all  the 
other  old  families  who  flourished  before  the  Revolution  in  the 
Colony.  Under  the  present  go-a-heacl  conditions  of  society  in 
America,  rotation  in  family  is  a  principle  as  fully  established  as 
that  of  rotation  in  office.  No  family  is  entitled  to  more  than  two 
generations  of  prosperity.  He  who  can  count  grandfathers,  must 
go  back  to  the  ranks,  and  work  his  own  way  up  again  to  fortune. 
The  man  who  has  been  distinguished  either  as  a  member  of 
society,  or  in  political  life,  knows  that  the  working  of  this  law  of 
rotation  will  give  his  family  no  right  to  occupy  his  position.  His 
grandchildren  will  sink  back  into  the  ranks,  and  be  lost  in  the 
obscurity  from  whence  he  sprung. 

The  family  of  Mandevil  in  England,  is  a  very  old  one.  It;; 
ancestor  was  one  of  the  Flemish  auxiliaries  brought  over  bv  tho 

« 

Conqueror.  Worthies  who  distinguished  themselves  by  theii 
rapacity,  and  settled  in  Lincolnshire,  where  land  was  assigned 
them  amongst  the  fens. 

Sir  John  de  Mandevil,  of  Lincolnshire,  was  in  1312  invested 
by  the  noted  and  turbulent  Earl  Warren,  with  the  Manor  of  Hat- 
field,  in  Yorkshire,  being  part  of  a  grant  of  land  which  that  Earl 
had  recently  received  from  Edward  II.  On  this  estate,  held  by 
the  honorable  service  of  a  pair  of  golden  spurs,  tho  family  con 


OUR      COUSIN      V  E  Tl  O  K  I  C  A  .  37 

tinned  to  reside  and  flourish,  country  gentle  folks  without  histo 
rical  distinction,  till  the  sixteenth  century,  when  the  head  of  the 
family  having  acquired  by  marriage  a  neighboring  estate  at 
Riccal,  removed  thither.  In  the  little  church  of  Riccal,  hand 
some  monuments  of  the  family  may  still  be  seen.  The  last,  dated 
in  1800,  records  the  death  of  Christopher  Mandevil,  last  of  his 
race,  and  an  old  bachelor.  In  him  the  English  and  elder  branch 
of  the  family  became  extinct. 

A  cadet  of  the  family  emigrated  to  Virginia  during  the  Civil 
Wars,  very  probably  with  some  of  the  Lomaxes,  the  two  families 
being  neighbors  in  Yorkshire,  and  connected  by  intermarriages. 
The  Mandevils  were  distinguished  as  staunch  royalists.  In  the 
early  Colonial  history,  the  name  of  one  or  more  of  them  is  always 
to  be  found  in  lists  of  the  Governor's  Council,  and  on  several 
occasions  they  put  themselves  forward  on  the  side  of  the  crown 
and  prerogative.  Their  residence  was  Rosencrantz,  on  the  banks 
of  the  Rappahannock.  It  was  a  princely  house,  built  of  red 
brick,  said  to  have  been  imported  from  England.  It  had  its 
private  chapel,  its  picture  gallery,  and  its  thirty  guest  chambers. 
It  stands  looking  over  the  river,  two  miles  broad  before  the 
house.  The  garden  has  a  high  sea-wall,  and  men-of-war  have 
been  known  to  anchor  under  the  windows  which  overlook  the 
river.  Every  year  the  owner  of  this  property  dispatched  his  own 
produce  in  his  own  ship,  to  England,  importing  in  return  all  the 
luxuries  of  civilized  life.  The  elder  sons  were  always  sent  to 
Eton  and  to  Cambridge.  It  was  not  a  family  that  ever  had  very 
many  younger  sons.  Marmaduke  Mandevil,  our  great-grand 
father,  commonly  called  the  King  of  Virginia,  had  two  sons, 
Marmeduke  and  John.  Marmaduke  he  sent  to  England,  after 
the  fashion  of  his  house.  He  was  captain  of  Eton  school,  the 
contemporary  and  intimate  associate  of  Charles  James  Fox,  and 


38  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

the  Lord  Carlisle  of  that  period.  The  three  friends  went  together 
to  Cambridge ;  their  portraits  were  painted  by  Sir  Joshua  Rey 
nolds,  on  one  canvas,  and  the  picture  is  still  shown  in  the  hall  of 
the  College. 

Marrnaduke  Mandeville  the  younger,  having  received  a  learned 
education,  returned  to  Virginia  after  a  prolonged  residence  abroad. 
lie  had  been  distinguished  in  England  as  a  scholar.  He  had  lived 
amongst  the  wits  of  Johnson's  time,  and  his  return  to  Virginia 
was  extremely  distasteful  to  him.  Even  the  refinement  on  which 
he  prided  himself  seemed  ludicrous  to  the  persons  with  whom  he 
was  to  pass  his  days,  and  wonderful  stories  are  still  told  of  the 
grandiloquence  with  which  he  used  to  issue  his  commands.  He 
continued  to  keep  up  an  interest  in  literary  affairs,  and  was  con 
sidered  an  authority  on  such  points  throughout  the  colonies. 
A  letter  of  his,  published  in  the  Boston  Sentinel  of  1782,  is  in 
ray  hands,  written  in  Johnsonian  periods,  on  the  authorship  of 
Junius,  which,  he  contended,  could  not  be  the  work  of  General 
Lee. 

On  one  occasion,  Marmaduke  Mandeville,  our  great  grandfather, 
travelling  on  horseback,  at  some  distance  from  his  home,  found 
himself  at  a  little  roadside  inn,  where  lands  beyond  the  Blue 
Ridge  were  being  bid  off  at  auction.  It  was  a  magnificent 
estate  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Shennandoah,  running  west  for 
several  miles  from  Harper's  Ferry,  comprising  what  is  now  some 
of  the  finest  wheat  land  in  Jefferson  and  Clarke  counties.  The 
man  who  was  anxious  to  dispose  of  it,  had  acquired  it,  it  is  said, 
in  exchange  for  a  fine  horse  imported  from  England.  Our  great 
grandfather  Mandeville  joined  in  the  bids,  when  the  property 
was  knocked  down  to  him  for  a  thousand  pounds.  But  several 
persons  having  laughed  at  his  new  purchase,  and  assured  him  it 
was  buying  lands  in  the  moon,  he  became  quite  uneasy  about  it 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  39 

in  tlie  night,  and  in  the  morning  consulted  General  (then  Colo 
nel)  Washington,  who  happened  to  be  also  at  the  same  lone  inn, 
on  the  subject  of  his  bargain.  The  General's  advice  was,  "  Keep 
the  land ;  I  have  surveyed  it,  and  I  know  it  to  be  as  fine  a  tract 
as  any  in  Virginia.  But  if  you  really  wish  to  give  it  up,  I  will 
take  it  off  your  hands."  Thus  reassured,  old  Mr.  Mandeville 
retained  the  property,  went  over  to  see  it,  and  built  a  house  cal 
culated  for  an  overseer's  residence,  or  for  a  shooting  box,  to 

'  O  ' 

which  house  his  son  Marmaduke  was  soon  after  banished,  having 
been  one  of  Lord  Dunmore's  counsellors,  a  leader  in  all  offensive 
measures  up  to  the  time  the  Revolution  broke  out,  and  "  a  very 
malignant  Tory." 

At  the  close  of  the  Revolution,  he  married  his  first  cousin,  and 
died  early  in  life,  leaving  his  property  to  several  sons.  They 
squandered  the  estate,  which  lavish  hospitalities  had  encumbered. 
Their  descendants  dwindled  out ;  their  lands  became  exhausted 
and  uninhabited.  Rosencrantz  itself  has  been  used  as  a 
tobacco  warehouse,  and  its  former  glory  has  long  passed 
away. 

John  Mandeville,  our  grandfather,  was  the  second  son  of  Mar 
maduke  Mandeville,  senior,  and  was  not  sent  by  his  father  to  an 
English  university.  He  was  educated  at  William  and  Mary 
College,  where,  when  yet  a  schoolboy,  he  fell  violently  in  love 
with  the  beautiful  Edmonia,  daughter  of  the  Colonial  Attorney- 
General,  niece  to  the  President  of  the  First  Congress,  and  sister 
to  Washington's  first  Secretary  of  State.  The  young  lady 
became  soon  after  engaged  to  an  English  naval  officer,  and  our 
grandfather,  in  despair,  quitted  College,  and  took  ship  for  Eng 
land,  writing  to  his  family  that  he  wished  to  learn  French,  and 
had  gone  to  the  French  capital. 

"  The  French  language !     D n  everything  French  !"  cried 


40  OUR      COUSIN'      V  K  K  O  X  I  C  A  . 

his  father.  "Be  d d  if  he  shan't  forget  every  word  of 

French.  It's  an  ungentlemanly  tongue." 

Trouble  was  brewing  between  England  and  her  colonies  at  the 
time  -  he  left  his  home ;  the  Revolution  broke  out,  and  he 
remained  in  England,  the  more  willingly  that  the  Colonial  Attor 
ney-General,  parting  on  the  sea-shore  from  his  son,  who  took  the 
side  of  the  Colonies,  fled  with  his  daughters  in  the  ship  that  car 
ried  Lord  Dunmore  to  England.  By  this  step  the  young  lady's 
engagement  was  broken  off  with  her  English  lover. 

The  refugees  lived  in  absolute  poverty  at  Brompton.  A  pen 
sion  of  one  hundred  pounds  a  year  was  given  to  the  loyalist 
Attorney-General,  and  he  was  left  to  struggle  as  he  best  might 
with  the  wolf  at  his  door. 

Our  grandfather,  John  Mandeville,  meanwhile,  had  been  made 
a  captain  in  the  newly  raised  corps  of  Staffordshire  militia, 
serving  at  Windsor  as  body-guard  to  the  king.  After  a  hard 
courtship  of  some  length,  he  married  his  beautiful  inamorata, 
and  seems  to  have  had  powerful  friends  willing  to  have  assisted 
his  fortunes.  Lord  George  Germaine  offered  to  put  him  on  the 
pension  list,  which  he  declined,  saying,  "  his  family  never  took 
a  pension."  He  was  afterwards  offered  an  office  something  like 
that  of  wholesale  purser  for  supplying  men  of  war  in  the  Thames, 
an  office  which  he  could  have  had  served  by  a  deputy,  and 
which  would  have  brought  him  in  one  thousand  pounds  per 
annum  ;  but  with  true  Mandeville  pride,  he  rejected  it.  "  I  have 
never  had  anything  to  do  with  commerce  or  trade,"  he  said, 
"  and  do  not  think  such  employments  becoming  a  member  of  my 
family." 

At  the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  war,  he  went  back  to  Vir 
ginia,  but  did  not  reach  his  home  in  time  to  see  his  father. 

The  old  gentleman  dying,   left  Rosencrantz,  his  patrimonial 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  41 

property,  to  Marnaaduke,  and  had  given  Stonehenge,  the  estate 
over  the  Blue  Kidge,  to  his  second  son.  Upon  this  property  our 
grandfather  hastened  to  take  up  his  residence,  and  there,  in 
1785,  our  dear  father  was  born. 

Stonehenge,  of  which  we  had  always  heard  him  speak  with 
such  affection,  that,  until  we  saw  it,  Max  and  I  had  formed  very 
magnificent  ideas  of  the  place,  is  a  straggling,  rough,  yellow  stone 
house,  built  on  the  borders  of  the  Shennandoah  on  bottom  land, 
with  a  wooded  mountain  rising  abruptly  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river.  The  best  road,  till  recently,  to  the  house,  was  through 
the  bed  of  a  torrent,  and  in  the  field  before  the  windows,  is  a 
graveyard,  where  our  grandmother  and  seven  infant  children  all 
lie  buried. 

On  the  last  evening  of  our  father's  life,  walking  with  us 
through  the  woods  of  Castleton,  he  was  telling  anecdotes  of  that 
mother,  whose  memory  his  heart  had  kept  so  green,  and  of 
whom,  I  have  known  him  often  speak  with  tears.  On  that  last 
evening  of  his  life,  he  told  her  grandchildren  again  of  all  her 
virtues,  of  her  beautiful  voice  which  still  rung  in  his  ears,  sing 
ing  "  Pray  Goody  "  and  "  Love  among  the  Roses,"  of  the  ardent 
attachment  that  her  husband  bore  her,  and  of  her  matron  dig 
nity.  "  She  never  left  a  salutation  unreturned,"  he  said.  "  Her 
kindest  smile,  and  lowest  bow,  were  for  the  humblest  negro." 
He  told  us  how  all  the  neighborhood  mourned  her  death,  and 
wept  over  her  coffin,  and  even  after  the  long  lapse  of  more  than 
forty  years,  the  subject  affected  him  so  much,  that  we  walked  on 
in  silence,  and  were  withheld  from  questioning  him  by  a  certain 
timid  respect  for  a  loss  that  had  never  ceased  to  be  a  sorrow. 

Our  grandfather  was  alone  at  Stonehenge  when  she  died. 
Our  father  was  his  only  living  son.  He  had  educated  him  in 
England,  and  in  order  that  he  might  see  the  world  before 


42  O  U  R      C  O  U  S  I  X      V  E  R  O  X  I  C  A  . 

settling  down  to  the  monotony  of  a  Virginia  farmer's  life,  he  had 
bought  him  a  commission  in  the  English  army.  After  his  wife's 
death,  everything  in  Virginia  became  distasteful  to  him.  His  over 
seer  could  hardly  get  him  to  attend  to  his  affairs.  He  pined 
for  England  and  its  associations.  He  disliked  owning  negroes — 
indeed  his  principal  reason  for  the  step  he  took,  was  a  desire 
that  his  son  should  never  be  a  slaveholder. 

At  this  juncture,  Alonzo  Lomax,  his  first  cousin  and  near 
neighbor,  made  him  an  offer  to  exchange  against  Stonehenge 
the  reversion  of  the  Castleton  estate  in  Yorkshire,  coming  to  him 
(Alonzo)  on  the  death  of  an  old  lady  upwards  of  eighty,  and  infirm. 

The  Yorkshire  property  was  of  great  value.  Yorkshire  was 
the  country  of  our  family,  and  our  grandfather's  English  friends, 
to  whom  he  wrote,  eagerly  advised  him  in  favor  of  the  scheme. 

He  exchanged  the  estates,  setting  free  eight  of  his  negro 
families,  and  settling  them  in  Pennsylvania,  w:here  they  all  did 
well,  and  their  descendants  may  be  living.  One  of  the  men — a 
blacksmith  on  our  grandfather's  return  to  Virginia,  ten  years 
after,  made  a  long  journey  to  see  him,  and  told  him  that  though 
they  were  all  prosperous  and  happy,  not  one  but  would  be  will 
ing  to  come  back  to  his  old  master,  if  he  would  settle  on  his 
estate,  and  wanted  them  to  return. 

In  parting  with  the  estate  to  Alonzo  Lomax,  our  grandfather 
made  it  a  condition,  that  the  negroes  should  not  be  sold  oft"  the 
place,  a  condition  he  had  no  power  to  enforce,  when  Alonzo 
sold  the  property  :  and  having  arranged  his  affairs  satisfactorily 
as  he  thought,  he  started  for  England,  taking  leave  of  his  married 
daughter,  Mrs.  Ormsby,  and  carrying  with  him,  a  bottle  of  rattle 
snake  oil  for  the  crippled  old  lady,  on  whose  decease  the  Cas 
tleton  estate  was  to  become  his  property.  The  rattlesnake  oil 
preserved  her  life  twelve  years,  during  which  time,  our  grand- 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  43 

father  found  himself  reduced  to  poverty.  Alonzo  Lomax  ran 
through  his  estate,  and  when  at  the  death  of  the  old  aunt,  it  was 
discovered  that  Castleton  (being  entailed  upon  the  elder  sons  of 
the  Lomax  family),  never  had  been  hers  at  all,  and  became  the 
property  of  Thomas  Lomax,  the  elder  brother — there  was  no 
possibility  of  recovering  any  part  of  Stonehenge. 

The  knowledge  of  his  error — the  thought  that  he  had  been  the 
ruin  of  his  son,  born  to  a  princely  property,  broke  the  heart  of 
poor  John  Mandeville.  He  had  been  struggling  with  poverty, 
and  with  regret  at  seeing  his  own  fine  Virginia  property,  passing 
from  the  spendthrift  hands  of  the  younger  Lomax,  parcelled  into 
small  estates  and  gradually  sold. 

Such  fragments  of  property  as  could  be  saved  from  Alonzo's 
wreck  passed  into  our  possession.  Cousin  Tom  Lomax,  who  had 
also  been  a  refugee  in  England  in  his  youth,  came  over  to  York 
shire  and  established  himself  at  Castleton.  He  came  to  see  our 
father,  Colonel  (then  Major)  Mandeville,  at  that  time  quartered 
in  the  Avest  of  England.  He  severely  blamed  Alonzo,  with  whom 
he  was  not  on  speaking  terms  at  that  period ;  blamed  our  grand 
father,  who  had  been  no  man  of  business,  for  Ms  share  in  the 
transaction,  but,  moved  to  compassion  by  the  narrow  country 
quarters  of  his  cousin,  ended  by  advising  him  to  marry,  saying 
that  he  himself  should  stay  a  bachelor,  and  should  be  glad  (as 
Alonzo  had  been  forced  to  dock  the  entail  in  consequence  of  an 
arrangement  made  to  pay  his  debts),  to  see  him  with  a  son 
before  his  death,  and  that  that  son,  as  some  compensation  for 
past  disappointments,  should  be  the  heir  of  Castleton. 

Max  was  named  after  him,  Thomas  Lomax  Mandeville.  The 
old  gentleman  in  yellow  top-boots,  and  a  buff  vest,  held  his 
godson  at  the  font,  and  gave  ten  guineas  to  Nurse,  who  brought 
us  up  with  great  respect  for  him. 


44  O  U  U      COUSIN      V  K  K  O  X  I  C  A  . 

Cousin  Lomax  sliowcd  no  relenting  towards  Alonzo,  who  after 
all,  perhaps  was  only  more  unfortunate  than  many  other  gentle 
men  of  Virginia,  who  lived  on  anticipating  their  crops,  with  a 
note  always  in  the  bank,  swallowing  up  the  profits  of  their 
wheat  crop  by  its  interest,  and  leaving  them  nothing  but  the 
corn  of  the  estate,  of  which  John  Randolph  said,  "The  hogs,  sir, 
eat  the  corn,  and  the  negroes  eat  the  hogs,  and  the  master's 
profit  sir,  is  always — nothing." 

What  reconciled  Alonzo  to  his  brother  Tom  Lomax,  and 
brought  them  out  to  England  in  the  same  ship,  after  the  brief 
visit  cousin  Lomax  paid  to  his  estate  over  the  Blue  Ridge, 
I  never  knew.  I  imagine  that  Alonzo  intended  to  travel  for  his 
health ;  and  that  his  death  upon  the  road,  was  the  effect  of  the 
gradual  decay  of  his  system,  brought  about  by  disappointment 
and  anxiety.  He  was  not  a  man  of  dissipated  habits.  lie  was 
only  one  of  those  of  whom  it  is  said,  "  He  was  nobody's  enemy 
but  his  own."  Yet  he '  contrived  to  ruin  us,  to  spend  his  own 
estate,  to  be  the  cause  of  endless  misery  among  the  families 
of  his  dependents,  to  embitter  his  wife's  life,  and  to  leave  his 
little  daughter  penniless  to  the  compassion  of  his  brother. 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  45 


CHAPTER    IV. 

"  Et  moi,  quelque  soit  le  monde  et  1'homme  et  1'avenir, 
Soit  qu'il  faille  oublier  ou  se  ressouvenir, 
Que  Dieu  m'afflige  ou  me  console, 
Je  ne  veux  habiter  la  cite  des  vivants 
Quo  dans  une  maison  qu'une  rumeur  d'enfans 
Fasse  toujours  vivante  et  folle." 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

VERONICA  and  Mammy  went  to  live  at  Castleton,  and  when 
the  summer  holidays  arrived,  and  Max  was  released  from  gram 
mar-school,  he  and  I  and  our  dear  nurse  went  into  Yorkshire. 

We  found  Castleton  a  large,  Italian  house,  standing  upon 
rising  ground.  The  velvet  lawn,  the  care  of  one  grey-headed, 
good  old  gardener,  sloped  down  to  a  clear  stream  of  water, 
widened  into  an  artificial  pond.  Ornamental  shrubbery  was 
planted  round  this  basin.  A  boat-house  and  swan-house  had 
been  built  of  mossy  logs,  under  some  willows  on  its  margin. 
Two  mute  and  stately  swans,  so  tame  that  they  would  eat  out  of 
our  hands,  floated  on  the  unruffled  surface  of  the  clear,  still 
waters.  On  the  other  side  of  the  lake,  Avoods  stretched  into  the 
distance.  They  were  kept  thinned  out  with  pleasant  paths 
opening  through  them  in  all  directions  to  pretty  points  of  view. 
The  park  was  dotted  with  superb  and  vigorous  trees.  There  was 
deep  fern  at  the  margin  of  the  woods,  such  as  the  deer  delight 
in ;  but  there  were  no  deer  in  the  park,  the  pride  of  cousin 


46  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Lomax  was  in  his  cows.  They  used  to  graze  about  the  park  in 
a  large  drove,  perfuming  the  air  with  their  sweet  breath.  The 
heads  of  the  whole  herd  always  turned  in  one  direction.  They 
never  molested  us  when  we  passed  by  them  on  the  path,  but 
raised  their  ruminating  heads,  their  broad  brows  and  their  large 
eyes,  and  gazed  at  us,  recognizing  Veronica,  no  doubt,  and 
Luath,  her  great  stag-hound,  a  terrier  in  greyhound  shape,  with 
shaggy  hair  over  the  mild  eyes  that  lighted  up  his  face  with 
such  expression. 

We  found  Veronica  an  altered  child  at  Castleton.  English  air 
had  given  her  a  great  appearance  of  health.  Her  step  was  more 
elastic,  and  her  form  more  round,  though  she  had  lost  nothing  of 
the  pure  delicacy  of  her  unrivalled  complexion.  She  had  crea 
tures  all  around  her.  Half  her  life  was  passed  with  animated 
nature.  The  game-keeper  had  given  her  an  owl,  who  lived  and 
blinked  in  a  cage  made  by  the  game-keeper's  son,  over  a  hole  in 
a  hollow  sycamore.  The  peacocks  spread  their  tails  for  her. 
The  mother  pheasant,  who  wras  bringing  up  her  young  upon  the 
lawn,  under  a  wire  grating,  ceased  to  gather  her  brood  under 
her  wings  while  the  child  stood  and  looked  at  her.  the  swans 
•would  follow  her.  She  scattered  corn  in  the  barn-yard,  and  the 
fowls  gathered  round  her,  and  she  knew  them  all  by  name,  and 
had  endless  little  anecdotes  of  their  individuality  of  character. 
The  horses  in  their  stalls,  turned  their  proud  heads  when  she 
came  tripping  in  to  pat  their  shining  sides ;  the  hunter  let  her 
tiny  hands  stroke  his  soft  cushioned  nose,  as  lie  bent  down 
to  her.  All  creatures  seemed  to  recognize  in  her  a  natural 
sovereignty.  Luath,  the  stag-hound,  was  her  prime  minister. 
She  never  stirred  without  Luath,  who  attached  himself  to  her 
from  the  first.  He  was  quite  as  much  about  her  path  and  bed 
as  her  old  Mammy. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  47 

None  made  her  afraid.  As  the  creatures  owned  her  for  their 
mistress,  and  seemed  to  do  her  bidding  at  a  look  or  at  the  lifting 
of  her  hand,  so  all  the  men  and  women  of  the  estate  followed 
the  example  of  the  animals.  The  old  place  had  been  so  still  and 
stern  without  young  life — and  now  she  seemed  to  carrry  glad 
ness  about  the  house  and  grounds  with  her.  Had  flowers 
bloomed  wherever  her  light  feet  were  set,  it  would  scarcely  have 
surprised  the  gardener.  Her  very  presence  gave  good  thoughts 
of  Him  who  said  that  little  children  were  less  of  earth  than 
heaven.  She  seemed  to 


1  Bring  with  her  blessing  and  a  feeling, 
As  when  one  reads  in  God's  own  Holy  Book." 


I  have  seen  her  retreating  slowly  from  the  lake  side,  followed 
closely  by  the  largest  of  the  swans  for  bread,  which  she  could 
hardly  hold  out  of  his  reach,  fearlessly  and  composedly  defending 
herself  from  him,  not  sportively  nor  affrighted,  but  quietly 
maintaining  her  ascendency,  with  a  calm  "  you  must  not  do  so, 
Swaney ;"  while  stately  Luath  waited  at  her  side,  ready  to  give 
her  his  assistance  in  emergency.  And  I  have  seen  her  in  the 
drawing-room  at  Castleton,  amongst  a  crowd  of  sporting  gentle 
men,  many  of  them  in  their  "  pink,"  who  had  come  there  after  a 
hard  day's  run  with  the  hounds.  And  while  it  frightened  me  to 
be  amongst  so  many  men,  Veronica  was  just  as  calm  as  she  was 
amongst  her  birds  and  flowers.  She  received  notice,  and  dis 
pensed  attentions  to  great  bearded  men,  all  subjugated  by  her 
winsomeness,  with  the  same  air  of  trustfulness  with  which  she 
had  appealed  to  the  big  swan.  And  yet,  she  was  not  an  authori 
tative,  willful  child.  She  yielded  on  the  contrary  to  both  Max 
and  me,  in  all  our  sports.  I  was  often  surprised  to  see  how 


48  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

readily  she  adopted  any  new  suggestion,  from  Max  especially. 
Incorporating  it  into  her  own  will,  as  it  were, 

"  She  welcomed  what  was  given  and  crave  no  more. 
Whate'er  the  scene  presented  to  her  view 
That  was  the  best.    To  that  she  was  attuned." 

Max  and  I  could  hardly  understand,  at  first,  how  the  little 
child,  so  timid,  sensitive,  and  listless  Avhen  she  came,  could  have 
so  changed  at  Castleton.  We  did  not  perceive  that  it  was 
because  she  was  one  of  those  flowers  which  only  open  in  the  sun 
shine,  growing,  unfolding,  and  expanding  in  the  warm,  bright 
summer  days.  One  harsh  word,  one  conviction  sent  sharply 
home  to  her  young  heart  that  people  did  not  love  her,  would 
have  blighted  all  her  sweetness,  as  a  premature  first  frost  nips  all 
the  tender  shoots,  and  devastates  a  garden. 

She  was  so  sweet  that  everybody  loved  her.  She  was  happy 
as  spontaneously  as  a  little  bird  or  lamb.  Our  cousin  Lomax, 
who  had  given  her  a  home  with  no  idea  that  she  would  become 
an  object  of  any  interest  at  Castleton,  had  been  won  by  the  frank 
gaiety  which  seemed  to  develop  itself  into  her  crowning  grace,  as 
she  grew  in  favor  with  the  people  round  her.  Cousin  Lomax 
was  a  sportsman,  very  fond  of  animals,  and  he  liked  her  when  he 
found  that  Luath  followed  her,  and  that  his  old  horse,  Brown 
Tony,  whinnied  when  she  came  about  him.  She  was  a  Una  who 
would  have  led  her  milk-white  lamb,  or  tamed  a  lion.  A  little 
queen  over  birds,  and  beasts,  and  servants,  Mammy,  master  and 
guests,  at  Castleton.  A  queen  who  preserved  her  authority  by 
never  stretching  it,  who  commanded  only  when  she  was  certain 
of  obedience,  who  founded  her  pretensions  on  a  sense  of  being 
loved. 
.  Mammy  was  the  only  soul  who  contradicted  her.  Mammy's 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  49 

temper  was  not  equable.  Though  she  loved  Veronica  as  her  own 
soul,  she  would  sometimes  get  unreasonably  cross  with  her.  But 
this  crossness  never  ruffled  the  child's  temper,  because,  as  she 
said  once  to  Max  and  me,  "  Old  Mammy  may  speak  cross,  but, 
oh  !  how  much  she  loves  me." 

Max  and  I  were  astonished  to  hear  her  chidden  by  old  Mammy? 
in  a  tone  in  which  our  own  Nurse  would  never  have  spoken  to 
her  charges.  It  upset  my  childish  theories  of  slavery,  to  see  the 
position  assumed  by  Mammy,  with  reference  to  her  little  mistress, 
and  I  was  not  old  enough  to  understand  how  social  distinctions 
being  protected  by  the  mere  fact  of  color,  it  was  more  possible 
for  Mammy  to  assume  the  ascendency  over  one  who  would  be 
righted  when  time  had  adjusted  their  position,  than  it  could  be 
for  our  hired  Nurse  to  presume  on  her  authority. 

We  used  to  spend  long  summer  mornings  by  the  little  lake, 
when  the  soft  noonday  breeze,  like  nature's  sigh  in  sleep,  rippled 
the  water ;  or  we  sought  refuge  in  the  coppice  where  the  thick 
hazel-boughs  protected  us  from  the  heat,  and  shutting  out  the 
fiery  glances  of  the  sun  above  us,  made  a  cool  green  light  and 
freshness  in  the  arbor-like  retreat  which  we  had  chosen. 

Our  own  Nurse,  with  brass  thimble  and  a  well-filled  cotton-bag, 
would  sit  in  the  shade  sewing.  Old  Mammy,  with  her  elbows 
on  her  knees,  her  gaudy  negro  Madras  handkerchief  tied  on  her 
head,  her  huge  hoop  ear-rings  shaking  in  her  ears,  and  massive 
silver  rings  upon  her  knotted  hands,  would  loll  upon  a  mossy  log, 
holding  her  chin  and  doing  nothing,  while  we  strayed  about  the 
wood  in  happy  wonder,  delighted  by  each  new  discovery  of  ant 
hills,  weeds,  or  many-colored  mosses,  pebbles,  or  gnarled  roots  of 
trees  covered  with  gaudy  fungi  or  gay  lichens,  with  curious 
insects  crawling  in  and  out,  and  busy  everywhere. 

One  day,  when  we  had  played  till  we  were  tired,  and  hunted 

3 


50  o  u  n    COUSIN    VERONICA. 

novelties  till  nothing  seemed  new  any  more,  and  were  resting 
under  the  shadow  of  a  spreading  hazel-bush,  so  quiet,  that  our 
nurses  did  not  know  that  we  were  near,  we  heard  Mammy  say 
to  nurse, 

"  Law,  sakes !  ain't  yer  never  tired  sewing !" 

ki  It  don't  matter  if  I  am,"  said  Nurse,  who  had  as  stern  a  sense 
of  duty  as  a  martyr.  "  I  have  got  Miss  Molly's  frock  here  to  let 
out,  and  have  stinted  myself  to  get  it  done  before  dinner-time ; 
and  I  should  say,  Mrs.  Nurse,  though  to  be  sure,  it  is  no  business 
of  mine,  that  you'd  do  a  great  deal  better  if  you  did  some  work  ; 
or,  least  ways,  taught  that  child  to  work.  Don't  they  never 
work  any  where  you  come  from  ?" 

"  Don't  does  much  sewin'  work  'way  dar,  honey,  I  reckon'," 
Mammy  said.  "  Ole  missus  use  do  mos'  all  de  sewin'  her  own 
self.  Laws  !  you  can't  git  nothin'  out  o'  niggers,  'scepts  you's  all 
de  time  lookin'  after  them." 

"  Don't  you  know  how  to  sew  ?"  said  Nurse. 

"  Laws,  yes,  honey.  I  knows  sure  'nuff.  Allers  use  to  sew 
for  my  ole  husband.  Sunday  clothes,  an'  that ;  other  ones  he 
done  got  from  his  mas'r." 

"  "Were  you  ever  married  ?"  asked  Nifrse,  with  an  awakening 
curiosity. 

"Law,  sakes!  never  knowed  ole  maid  o'  colour,  any  how," 
said  Mammy,  with  a  laugh.  "  Done  married  my  first  husban' 
when  I  wor  nos'ing  'scepts  a  chile,  and  had  a  mighty  smart 
weddin'.  Ole  missus,  she  corned  down;  there  was  right  good 
times  at  dat  ar  weddin',  honey.  Ole  mas'r  telled  Jim  he'd  give 
him  mighty  sound  whippin'  if  he  warn't  kind  to  me.  Ole 
mas'r  married  us  hisself — but,  laws,  'twarnt  no  great  use,  I 
reckon." 

"  How  did  he  die !"  said  Nurse. 


0  U  U      COUSIN      VERONICA.  51 

"Laws!  he  died  ....  who?  Jim?  I  dun  no  as  he's  dead 
His  mas'r  moved  to  Missouri,  way  down  south,  an'  took  his 
negroes  thar.  He  offered  mas'r  to  buy  me  to  go  'long,  too,  with 
him,  but  Miss  Edmonia,  she  didn't  want  to  give  me  up.  So  I 
reckoned  I'd  best  stay  with  her.  Mighty  hard  thing  gittin' 
real  good  servants  like  them  you  •  has  brought  up.  Jim  gol 
'nother  ole  woman  'ways  down  thar,  I  reckon." 

"  Married  again !  Did  you  marry  while  your  husband  was 
living  ?"  cried  Nurse,  in  a  fit  of  horror. 

"  He  done  gone.  Warn't  never  comin'  back.  Never  heerd 
on  him  agin,"  said  Mammy.  "Yes,  I  done  married  Black 
smith  after  that.  We  was  man  an'  wife  twenty  years,  I 
reckon." 

"  I  thought  you  called  yourself  a  Christian  !"  exclaimed  Nurse. 

"  Laws !  so  I  am.  Done  got  religion  five  years  sence.  Ole 
missus,  she  thought  a  deal  o'  being  pious,  an'  taught  my  boys  a 
mighty  heap  o'  things.  One  on  'em  reads  elegant.  Wish't  I 
was  back  in  ole  Virginny!  I  ain't  no  'count  here  like  what 
I'd  be  at  home.  An'  I'd  see  my  chil'ens  too,  I  reckon." 

Our  nurse's  last  exclamation  had  been  forced  from  her  by 
her  repression  of  indignation. 

"Well!  I'm  sure,"  said  she,  "I  think  you'd  better  be  back 
there  than  bringing  up  a  child  with  such  notions.  And  as 
to  my  young  gentleman  and  lady,  I  don't  know  what  their  papa 
would  say  about  their  associating  with  you,  if  he  knew  you  were 
such  a  woman  as  you  represent  yourself.  I  fancy  you  won't  get 
us  back  here  when  this  visit  is  ended.  Come,  children,  I  am 
going  back  to  the  house  !  Come  along  with  me  directly.  Never 
mind  your  cousin,  Master  Max — her  own  nurse  will  take  care  of 
her." 

"I  dunno   what  you'se  flouncin'  roun'  that  ways  for,"  said 


52  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Mammy,  waxing  wroth.  "Here,  Vera,  come  here,  and  let  me 
tie  your  hat."  Which  she  proceeded  to  do  very  roughly. 
"  \V  isn't  I  was  back  over  de  Blue  Ridge  in  ole  Virginny.  I 
ain't  gwine  stay  here  no  how.  I  ain't  no  'count  here  to  what  I 
allers  done  been  'mongst  real  white  folks.  I'se  gwine  home, 
\vhar  I'se  better'n  white  niggers  any  how,  I  reckon." 

"  Come  along,  Master  Max — come,  Miss  Molly,  do !"  said 
Nurse,  in  a  tone  of  irritation.  "  And  don't  you,"  she  added  in  a 
whisper,  "take  example  by  anything  you  see  her  teach  your 
cousin.  I  don't  want  you  to  have  no  more  to  do  with  Miss 
Veronica  than  you  are  obliged  to.  As  for  that  black  woman,  all 
you  have  got  to  do  with  her  is  to  be  civil  to  her.  She  isn't  fit 
company  for  little  ladies  and  gentlemen." 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  feud  between  the  nurses — our 
nurse  insisting  that  as  she  was  responsible  for  our  morals  in  the 
absence  of  our  parents,  she  should  keep  us  apart  as  much  as  pos 
sible,  out  of  harm's  way.  The  quarrel  grew  so  hot  that  it  came 
to  the  ears  of  cousin  Lomax,  who  sent  for  our  nurse  to  his 
library,  and  lu-ld  an  argument  with  her  which  had  no  effect. 
His  adversary  drove  in  everything  she  had  to  say  with  a  text  of 
Scripture  more  or  less  well  applied.  Nurse  fancied  she  came  off 
victorious  in  this  engagement.  She  could  not  understand  that 
circumstances  alter  cases,  and  that  a  court  of  appeal  from  God's 
broad  rules  of  morality  might  be  found  in  the  necessities  and 
customs  made  by  the  laws  of  man.  She  told  Mr.  Lomax  a  good 
many  home  truths,  too,  and  gave  him  some  good  practical  ad- 
\i'-<'  about  his  duty  to  the  child  he  had  adopted;  and  though  he 
laughed  at  the  idea  of  good  old  Mammy,  a  respected  member  of 
the  Baptist  Church,  being  an  unfit  guardian  for  the  innocence 
of  her  nursling,  and  though  he  called  Xurf=e  to  her  face  "  a  med 
dlesome  jade " — an  expression  she  resented  by  declaring  that 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  53 

after  such  language  she  would  sooner  lose  her  place  than  come 
again  under  his  roof,  to  which  he  replied  he  never  wanted  to  see 
her  again  at  Castleton — he  took  into  consideration  the  duty  of 
providing  some  instruction  for  the  child  of  his  adoption,  and 
paid  a  visit  to  old  Dr.  Dwyer,  the  rector  of  the  parish,  who,  he 
vaguely  hoped,  might  consent  to  educate  her.  But  the  Doctor, 
a  grave  gentleman,  sixty-five  years  old,  mistrusted  his  own  apti 
tude  to  teach  the  primer,  and  suggested  that  a  governess  had 
better  be  employed.  Mr.  Lomax,  however,  had  no  relish  for  that 
alternative.  He  was  resolved  not  to  engage  a  governess,  hav 
ing  an  old  bachelor's  dread  of  introducing  a  woman  of  education 
into  his  house,  who  might,  either  by  a  bold  assertion  of  Woman's 
Rights,  or  by  a  course  of  woman's  management,  succeed  in  ob 
taining  "rule,  supremacy,  and  sway"  in  his  establishment.  One 
or  the  other  of  the  two  old  gentlemen  at  last  hit  on  the  idea 
that  Miss  Alicia,  a  sister  of  the  Doctor,  twenty  years  younger 
than  himself,  who  lived  with  him  and  kept  his  house,  might  per 
haps  be  prevailed  upon  to  impart  her  own  knowledge  of  spell 
ing  and  reading  to  Veronica.  Miss  Alicia  was  appealed  to,  and 
consented  to  accept  the  charge,  after  a  good  many  difficulties  on 
the  subject  of  compensation ;  for  while  it  was  very  agreeable  to 
her  feelings  to  have  an  additional  twenty  pounds  a  year  to  dis 
pense  in  village  charities,  her  pride  as  a  lady  revolted  from  the 
idea  of  payment  for  an  occupation  which,  as  she  said,  would  be 
a  pleasure  to  a  lonely  woman,  who  loved  children,  during  the 
solitary  morning  hours,  when  her  brother  was  busy  in  his  parish 
or  his  study. 

A  better  choice  than  Miss  Alicia,  could  hardly  have  been 
made.  Writing  an  ordinary  note  of  civility,  was  indeed  to  her 
a  laborious  literary  labor,  not  performed  without  a  dictionary, 
and  many  careful  erasures.  Spelling  was  not  her  strong  point, 


54  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

and  her  acquaintance  with  the  concerns  of  the  human  family, 
did  not  rise  to  the  level  of  the  information  comprised  in  the 
histories  of  Mrs.  Barbauld ;  but  she  was  humbly  pious,  simple- 
hearted  and  affectionate.  She  taught  Veronica  better  things 
than  the  old-fashioned  accomplishments,  which  in  time  she 
superadded  to  the  ordinary  rudiments  of  a  village  school  edu 
cation — music  as  taught  by  Clementini,  and  French  verbs  as 
they  were  spelled  before  the  Revolution,  and  the  art  of  painting 
flowers  in  water-colors  upon  fancy  cards.  Miss  Alicia  taught 
her  pupil  to  be  open  and  truthful,  to  fear  God  because  He 
always  saw  her,  and  to  love  Him  because  she  saw  his  goodness 
everywhere.  She  taught  her  gentle  kindnesses  towards  the 
children  of  the  cottagers.  She  taught  her  to  know  all  the  flowers 
by  their  names,  from  the  daisy  of  the  fields,  the  shepherd's 
weather-glass,  the  bright  blue-bird's  eye,  and  the  yellow  pimper 
nel,  to  the  tulips  of  her  parterre,  and  the  roses  that  bloomed  in 
beauty  and  variety,  upon  the  walls  of  the  parsonage.  Miss  Alicia 
taught  her  to  be  pure  in  heart  and  simple-minded.  She  taught 
her  to  be  wise  with  the  true  wisdom  of  childhood,  which  is  love 
and  faith ;  and  womanly  in  word  and  deed  and  modest  grace, 
ie  grew  older.  She  taught  her  to  be  loving  and  con 
siderate  for  others,  and  at  the  same  time,  to  remember  her  own 
place  in  life,  and  never  to  transgress  the  sweet  proprieties,  set 
like  a  fragrant  hedge  round  the  life  of  a  true  lady.  If  she  taught 
her  to  know  little,  and  to  do  little, — whereas  better  educated 
girls,  are  brought  up  for  display,  to  do  and  know — she  taught 
her  to  be  good  and  gracious.  To  be! — ah  !  to  be  is  to  a  woman 
worth  all  the  doing  and  the  knowing.  To  be,  is  in  the  power  of 
every  one  of  us.  All  God's  best  gifts  are  attainable  by  all ;  air, 
light,  and  natural  beauty ;  human  affection,  goodness,  holiness, 
his  loving  glances  answering  back  the  aspirations  of  men's 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  55 

hearts,  may  be  the  portion  of  us  all.  "Nay,  rather,"  said  the 
Saviour  to  those  followers,  who  thought  the  mother  placed  in  a 
situation  unattainable  by  other  women,  must  be  blessed  above 
all  others  of  her  race,  "  Nay  rather,  blessed  are  they  that  hear 
the  word  of  God  and  keep  it."  Nurse  was  never  required  to 
return  to  Castleton,  for,  in  truth,  after  this  period,  our  father's 
family  by  his  second  wife,  required  all  her  services.  She  ceased 
to  belong  to  Max  and  me  exclusively.  We  went  to  school,  and 
as  our  holidays  were  spent  in  Yorkshire  with  Veronica,  we  were 
very  rarely  at  home. 


66  OUK      COUSIN     VERONICA. 


CHAPTER    V. 

"  My  head  runs  round  and  round  about, 

My  heart  flows  like  a  sea, 
As  ane  by  ane  the  thochts  rush  back 

0'  childhood  and  o'  thee. 
0  mornin'  life  !    0  mornin'  luve  ! 

O  lichtsome  days  and  lang, 
When  hinnied  hopes  around  our  hearts 

Like  simmer  blossoms  sprang." 

MOTHERTVELL. 

LET  those  who  have  been  as  happy  as  we  were  during  the 
holidays  we  thenceforth  passed  at  Castleton,  thank  God  for  the 
experiences  of  their  Childhood.  "We  can  fill  a  child's  cup  to  the 
brim  with  happiness,  but  afterwards  the  wine  of  life  is  bitter  at 
the  lees,  we  can  but  dash  it  with  a  temporary  sweetness.  The 
bitter  taste  is  never  lost,  but  by-and-by  the  palate  gets  accus 
tomed  to  its  bitterness.  We  learn  to  know  its  tonic  properties, 
and  we  look  forward  to  drinking  for  the  first  time  since  the  cup 
wa-  snatched  from  our  lips  in  childhood,  the  pure  wine  of  glad 
ness  in  the  Kingdom  of  God. 

Little  Veronica's  cup  sparkled  in  her  hand.  Kindness,  secu 
rity,  affection,  daily  instruction,  and  such  vrholesome  excitements 
as  served  to  keep  her  interests  awake,  encircled  her  at  Castleton, 
and  the  graces  of  her  childish  life  happily  unfolded  themselves 
in  an  atmosphere  as  genial  and  as  sunshiny  as  that  of  an  English 
Child  and  queen  as  she  was,  the  germs  of  her  womanhood 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  5*7 

began  early  to  develop  themselves  in  our  Veronica.  "  Women," 
says  Teufelsdrock,  "  are  born  worshippers,"  and  of  all  the  figures 
that  flitted  across  her  camera  obscura  views  of  life,  Max  was 
the  noblest  object  she  could  select  for  her  devotion. 

Poets  have  all  felt  the  beauty  of  boyhood,  and  have  done  it 
reverence. 

"  Oh  !  dearest,  dearest  boy — my  heart 

For  better  lore  would  seldom  yearn, 

Could  I  but  teach  the  hundreth  part 

Of  what  from  tliee  I  learn." 

Veronica  did  not  exercise  over  him  the  same  sort  of  fascina 
tion  she  did  over  the  grown  people.  They  were  excellent  friends, 
and  inseparable  companions ;  but  he  quarrelled  with  her  some 
times,  and  liked  her  the  better  because  he  always  carried  oft'  the 
victory. 

"  Nature  gives  healthy  children  much — how  much  !  Wise 
"  education  is  a  wise  unfolding  of  this.  Often  it  unfolds  itself 
"  better  of  its  own  accord." 

Max  was  eminently  an  exemplification  of  this  truth.  Hand 
some,  healthy,  truthful,  daring,  and  manly,  with  rigid  adherence 
to  a  boy's  code  of  honor,  very  little  of  his  future  character  had 
been  developed.  That  which  was  most  prominent  in  him,  was 
healthy  growth.  The  discipline  of  life  was  to  supply  him  train 
ing.  He  was  a  boy  of  remarkable  simplicity  and  single-minded- 
ness,  vehement,  impetuous,  continually  wrong,  but  always 
without  {mile.  He  seemed  to  have  few  intricacies  of  character ; 

O  ' 

to  dwell  always  in  the  sunshine.  There  was  nothing  moody 
about  him ;  no  arriere  pensees — one  always  knew  where  to  find 
him.  You  had  no  occasion  to  humor  his  peculiarities  and  fan 
cies.  There  was  harmonious  adjustment  and  play  of  all  his 
faculties — a  "glad  light  from  within  radiated  outward" — and 

3* 


58  OUR      COUSIN      V  E  It  O  X  I  C  A  . 

those  about  him  walked  in  the  light  of  it.  How  great  that 
:ng  is  in  familiar  intercourse,  let  those  say  who  walk  warily, 
treading  in  darkness  on  the  tender  places  of  a  character,  which 
lies  under  the  shadow  of  reserve. 

He  loved  me  heartily,  and  Veronica  very  tenderly.  A 
healthy  boy  twelve  years  of  age,  does  not  indulge  in  day-dreams, 
but  he  colors  his  panorama  of  the  future.  And  wonderfully 
bright  are  the  tints  that  he  mixes  on  his  palette  (the  brilliancies 
of  Turner  are  nothing  to  it),  and  his  drawing  is  as  totally  wanting 
in  perspective  as  Hogarth'  satire  on  Sir  Edward  Walpole. 

Max's  panorama  had  life  and  movement  and  triumph  in  it. 
In  one  part  he  was  mounted  on  a  war-steed,  waving  a  blithe 
farewell  to  his  cousin  Veronica.  In  another,  he  was  returning 
with  laurels  on  his  brow ;  but  the  acclamations  of  the  multitude 
would  have  left  him  much  to  wish,  had  not  his  eye  turned  to  a 
balcony  above  the  street,  where,  witness  of  his  triumph,  was  seen 
Veronica.  No  section  of  his  picture  could  have  been  complete 
without  her.  She  represented  the  womanly  element  which 
always  enters  even  into  a  boy's  visions  of  happiness.  The  multi 
tude  may  shout  man's  triumph  in  the  streets,  but  "  only  from  one 
soul  can  he  be  always  sure  of  reverence  enough."  His  eye  seeks 
out  the  woman  he  loves  best,  and  his  heart  asks  her  sympathy, 
and  her  acknowledgment.  Is  it  true  that  woman  burns  incense 
to  "  the  golden-calf  of  self-love,"  as  Jean  Paul  hath  it  ? 

Things  went  on  among  us  in  this  way  for  some  years  after  the 
doath  <>f  Veronica's  father.  By-and-by,  as  Max  grew  older, 
aspired  to  the  toya  virilis,  and  attained  the  debatable  frontier 
line  of  boyhood,  he  grew  less  sunny,  frank,  and  single-minded. 
New  notions  began  to  develop  themselves,  which  we  could  not 
fully  understand.  lie  associated  less  with  me,  and  a  good  deal 
more  with  Veronica. 


o  u  K     r  o  i:  s  i  x     v  E  R  o  N  i  c  A  .  59 

One  warm,  bright,  golden  evening,  shortly  before  the  close 
of  the  midsummer  holidays,  Max,  Veronica  and  I,  agreed  to  take 
our  little  boat,  and  spend  some  hours  until  twilight  on  the  lake, 
gathering  water  lilies  and  reading  poetry,  of  which,  Max,  though 
a  school-boy  of  fifteen,  was  very  fond.  We  had  provided  our 
selves  with  a  broad,  flat,  thin,  and  widely  margined  quarto  from 
the  library — a  copy  on  India  paper,  of  the  first  edition  of  the 
Corsair,  and  on  the  glad  waters  of  our  little,  sunny  lake,  with  a 
mischievous  "petit  zephir"  to  blow  over  the  leaves  for  us,  we 
read  of  "  the  glad  waters  of  the  dark  blue  sea."  while  Veronica 
and  I  wove  water-lilies  into  garlands,  and  Max,  as  he  read, 
dipped  his  oar,  now  and  then,  into  the  lake,  to  keep  us  as  much 
as  possible  in  the  middle  of  the  water. 

The  shades  of  evening  had  begun  to  close  over  the  landscape ; 
Medora  was  consigned  to  early  death  ;  Gulnare  had  mysteriously 
faded  out  of  the  picture,  to  revive  as  mysteriously  in  Lara. 
Cousin  Lomax,  however,  had  concluded  her  life  and  history  by 
writing  at  the  close  of  his  volume,  "  An  Impromptu  addressed  by 
a  wit  to  a  lady  who  asked  the  fate  of  Gulnare,  at  a  London 
party." 

"  Say  what  became  of  desolate  Gulnare  ? 
Ha!  is  it  so?  she  cries.    What?  how?  when?  where? 
A  rope  depending  from  the  deck  she  views, 
Swift  to  the  end  makes  fast  a  running  noose, 
Then  plunged  despondent  in  the  depth  profound, 
And  died  a  double  death — both  hanged  and  drowned." 

And  I  have  questioned  whether  the  fate  assigned  her  by  the 
London  Avit  were  not  much  more  satisfactory  than  the  Byronic 
ambiguity. 

As  Max  concluded  thus,  we  heard  a  shout,  and  looking  up, 
saw  Mammy  on  the  grass,  sending  her  prolonged,  aspirative, 
negro  cry  of  "  Oigh  !  children — oigh,  Vera !"  over  the  water. 


60  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"•  What  can  Mammy  be  doing  in  the  open  air  so  late,  with 
her  bad  cough  ?"  said  Veronica.  "  Make  haste,  cousin  Max,  and 
row  us  in  shore." 

As  we  drew  near  we  heard  her  coughing.  The  ungenial 
climate  had  been  telling  very  much  upon  Mammy.  She  had 
always  had  a  grumbling  wish  to  return  to  her  own  country. 
But  now,  when  we  used  to  talk  to  her  of  "  ole  Virginny,"  and 
tell  her  that  some  day  she  would  go  back  to  it,  she  had  grown 
accustomed  to  say,  "  No,  indeed,  honey,  Mammy's  gwine  furder." 
This  did  not  make  us  unhappy,  because  Mammy  had  cried 
"  Wolf"  so  often.  She  had  always  been  full  of  complaints  about 
her  health.  You  could  not  possibly  offend  her  more  than  by 
remarking  that  she  looked  well ;  and  under  these  peculiarities 
of  her  race  we  did  not  trace  the  real  progress  of  a  slow  con 
sumption. 

"  What  is  it,  Mammy  ?"  we  said,  hailing  her,  as  we  approached 
the  boat-house. 

Mammy  hailed  back,  in  the  intervals  of  her  coughing,  some 
thing  about  "  Virginny  "  and  "  another  Cousin." 

We  sprang  on  shore,  and,  as  we  did  so,  caught  sight  of  cousin 
Lomax  coming  over  the  lawn  that  sloped  down  to  the  lake, 
accompanied  by  a  young  gentleman. 

Veronica  never  had  looked  prettier.  It  was  her  birthday. 
Her  bonnet  hung  upon  her  arm,  and  since  the  sun  had  set  I  had 
crowned  her,  like  a  water  nymph,  with  a  wreatli  of  full-blown 
lilies.  Her  golden  curls  hung  to  her  waist,  and  danced  witli 
every  merry  step,  or  the  touch  of  every  breeze.  She  had  tied 
another  wreath  of  lilies,  like  a  girdle,  round  her  waist,  and  her 
bonnet,  hanging  on  her  arm,  was  heaped  with  lilies. 

Her  first  impulse,  upon  landing,  was  to  give  her  Mammy  an 
enthusiastic  kiss,  but  cousin  Ix>max  recalled  her  to  propriety. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  Gl 

"  Come  here,  my  little  girl ;  come  here,  Max  and  Molly  too," 
said  he.  "  Veronica,  your  cousin  wants  that  kiss.  This  gentle 
man  is  from  Virginia.  His  father  owns  Stonehenge,  and  was 
your  father's  second  cousin.  Your  Christian  name  is  James,  sir, 
is  it  not  ?"  he  continued,  turning  to  the  stranger.  "  Your  cousin 
James  Tyrell !  Give  him  a  kiss,  Veronica." 

Veronica  put  on  her  air  of  a  queen,  and^came  up  to  him, 
offered  him  her  cheek,  and  looked  steadily  at  him,  as  if  taking 
the  measure  of  him.  I  struggled  a  little,  and  laughed,  and  pulled 
away  as  cousin  Tyrell  took  my  kiss.  Whereat  cousin  Lomax 
scolded  me  for  being  coy,  and  told  me  to  remember  that  "  kiss 
ing  was  a  cousin's  privilege  in  Virginia." 

At  this  moment  came  up  Mammy,  who  had  toiled  up  the 
slope  less  rapidly  than  we.  Her  black  face  shone  a  welcome, 
and  at  once  struck  cousin  Tyrell.  His  eyes  lighted  with  satis 
faction.  "Why,  aunty,"  said  he,  holding  out  his  hand  as  she 
came  up  to  him,  "  I  reckon  you  come,  too,  from  old  Virginia.  I 
have  seen  nothing  better  than  white  folks  since  I  left  it, 
and  it  does  me  good  to  see  an  honest  old  blaek  face  once 
more." 

As  cousin  Tyrell  spoke  thus,  with  his  face  half  turned  to 
cousin  Lomax,  Mammy  was  preparing  him  an  unpleasant  sur 
prise.  He  found  himself  seized  suddenly  around  the  throat,  and 
a  loud  kiss,  five  inches  by  three,  was  imprinted  on  his  face  by 
the  ample  lips  of  Mammy. 

"De  Lord  be  praised,  mas'r,  dat  I  done  see  one  of  our  own 
folks  from  old  Virginny !  I  knowed  you  sense  you  was  mighty 
little  chile,  young  mas'r.  Laws !  I  nussed  you  monstrous  sight 
o'  times  when  my  ole  mas'r  and  my  missis  was  living  at  Stone 
henge,  an'  your  pa  and  ma  dey  used  to  bring  you  over  to  our 
place,  mas'r.  Oh  !  mas'r  Jim,  dat  place  your'n  now,  mas'r.  Ole 


62  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

mas'r  done  sell  all,  and  leave  nosing  to  dis  chile  'ceps  her  old 
Mammy." 

Tyrell,  who  had  been  a  good  deal  startled  by  the  embrace,  but 
after  the  first  shock  seemed  good-naturedly  inclined  to  take  it  as 
it  was  meant,  was  put  much  out  of  countenance  by  this  conclusion. 

"  The  old  woman  is  getting  troublesome,"  said  cousin  Lomax, 
drawing  away  Ty^ll ;  but  the  thought  that  Tyrell's  father  owned 
Stonehenge,  jarred  discordantly  upon  every  one  of  us.  Our 
father  still  took  an  affectionate  pride  in  the  old  place,  and  often 
spoke  to  Max  and  me  about  the  loss  of  it.  We  knew  how  bitterly 
he  felt  the  alienation  of  his  inheritance.  We  knew  how  much 
our  own  prospects  in  life  had  been  changed  by  the  careless,  spend 
thrift  habits  of  Alonzo  Lomax.  We  by  no  means  agreed  with 
Mammy,  that,  setting  the  Tyrell  interest  aside,  Stonehenge  would 
belong  to  our  little  cousin.  My  heart  brooded  over  my  own  share 
in  the  loss ;  for  I  had  heard  my  father  often  say,  "  Cousin  Lomax 
has  promised  to  make  all  good  to  Max,  when  I  am  gone — but  * 
when  I  die  who  will  provide  for  you  ?  Your  face  must  be  your 
fortune,  little  Molly." 

Cousin  Lomax  became  thoughtful,  pondering  the  prospects  of 
his  niece,  or  the  misconduct  of  her  dead  father.  Max  put  on  an 
air  of  dignity  to  mark  his  sense  of  the  pretensions  of  his  family. 
But  Veronica  was  gay  and  unconcerned.  She  walked  beside 
cousin  Tyrell,  drawing  from  him  a  description  of  Stonehenge, 
which  she  wanted  to  compare  with  that  given  her  by  Mammy, 
until  after  a  time,  the  stiffness  consequent  on  Mammy's  accolade 
i  off,  and  pleasant  feeling  was  restored. 

Cousin  Tyrell  was  a  youth  barely  nineteen,  though  he  looked 
older.  His  eyes  were  blue — not  cold  blue  eyes,  but  eyes  blue 
like  the  sky  warmed  by  the  summer  sunshine.  He  had  "hair 
of  an  excellent  chestnut  color."  A  mouth  firm,  but  its  strength 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  C3 

was  tempered  by  its  sweetness.  A  figure,  not  very  tall,  but 
closely  knit.  A  step  elastic.  A  gleam  of  pleasant  fun  about  his 
eyes.  Happy  and  thoughtful  when  alone — happy  and  genial 
when  in  company — nobody  ever  could  have  mistrusted  him,  or 
put  a  slight  upon  him.  Nor  did  it  take  us  long  to  get  acquainted 
with  such  a  cousin.  Before  bed-time  we  were  the  best  of  friends, 
and  found  that  though  graver  than  we  were  when  grave  things 
were  discussed — riper  than  Max,  better  informed  than  any  one 
whom  we  had  ever  met,  and  several  years  our  senior — he 
was  able  to  adapt  himself  to  our  society.  We  promised  to  take 
him  all  over  the  woods  next  day,  and  on  the  lake,  and  before 
we  went  to  bed,  we  had  Mammy  into  the  parlor,  and  Tyrell 
told  her  news  of  the  darkeys,  and  white  folks,  over  the  Blue 
Ridge,  in  Jefferson  and  Clarke  Counties. 

He  semed  to  know  them  all,  and  to  have  endless  anecdotes  to 
tell  of  all  of  them.  And  cousin  Lomax  laughed  till  his  chair 
shook  under  him,  and  Veronica  drew  close  to  Tyrell,  and  fixed 
her  blue  eyes  upon  his  face,  and  Mammy  kept  up  the  ball  of 
conversation  as  it  hopped,  as  she  stood  behind  his  chair  shaking 
her  hoop  ear-rings,  and  stretching  out  her  long,  lean  arms; 
coming  up  to  him  at  times,  and  putting  her  hands  upon  his 
shoulders,  as  she  listened  to  what  was  told  ostensibly  for  her 
benefit,  but  which  was  equally  amusing  to  us  all. 

Nobody  ever  was  so  graphic  in  description  as  cousin  Tyrell, 
nor  was  he  above  the  weakness  of  enjoying  a  fair  field  and  a 
delighted  audience.  He  told  all  sorts  of  racy  stories ;  he  gave 
us  negro  imitations,  con  amore ;  he  seemed  to  have  inspired 
Mammy  and  cousin  Lomax  with  new  life,  and  sent  us  to  bed 
regretting  with  all  our  hearts,  that  he  could  not  stay  longer  than 
the  next  day  at  Castleton. 

That  next  day  we  spent  rowing  over  the  lake  and  walking  in 


64  OCR      COUSIN      V  E  R  O  X  I  O  A  . 

the  woods.  Tyrell,  the  gayest  of  the  gay,  exciting  Max  to  many 
an  enterprise  which  was  to  show  off  manly  prowess,  and  develop 
manly  strength.  We  never  before  had  laughed  so  much,  or 
walked  so  far,  or  gained  so  many  new  ideas,  or  enjoyed  ourselves 
so  thoroughly.  Even  after  dinner,  by  moonlight,  Tyrell  would 
not  let  us  rest,  but  had  us  oft'  to  the  lake  for  a  row,  and  sang 
plantation  melodies,  not  known  beyond  the  cornfield  at  that 
period,  lie  made  us  join  him  in  the  choruses,  and  the  echoes 
on  the  other  side  of  the  lake  caught  and  prolonged  the  notes  as 
they  floated  over  the  water.  Veronica  and  I  refused  to  sing  one 
of  his  choruses,  which  Tyrell  called  "  the  new  version,"  adapted 
to  his  experience  of  woman-kind,  and  present  circumstances. 

We  protested  that  the  sentiment  was  untrue ;  he  asserted 
that  it  would  be  true  upon  the  morrow ;  and  the  words,  prolonged 
by  voice  and  echo,  seemed  to  linger  over  the  lake,  of  the  strange 
plaintive  ending  of  each  comic  verse,  which  sent  us  into  roars  of 
laughter. 

"  Jim  crack  corn  I  don't  care, 
Jim  crack  corn  I  don't  care, 
Jim  crack  corn  I  don't  care, 

Cousin  Tyrell's  gwine  away." 

And  true  enough,  cousin  Tyrell  shouldered  his  knapsack,  and 
met  the  mail  before  daylight  the  next  morning.  He  was  on  his 
way  to  a  German  university.  An  unusual  destination  for  a 
yoimir  Virginian  gentleman,  but  his  father  was  an  old  diploma- 
aid  took  a  fancy  to  send  his  son  abroad.  He  and  three 
other  young  Americans,  graduates  of  Harvard  University,  and 
aU>  hound  .to  Germany,  were  taking  a  preliminary  pedestrian 
tour  to  the  lakes  of  the  Xorth  of  England,  and  Tyrell  had  pushed 
on  three  days  in  advance,  out  of  his  -way  to  York,  to  see  his 
relatives  at  Castleton. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  65 

Max  and  I  wrote  about  him  to  our  father,  who  took  pains  to 
send  him  an  invitation  to  come  to  the  town  where  he  was  quar 
tered,  and  to  bring  his  party  with  him ;  but  the  letter  failed  to 
reach  him;  and  when  we  parted  from  him  at  Castleton,  upon 
the  wide  oak  stair-case,  Avith  a  last  good-night,  and  a  brief  resis 
tance,  and  a  ravished  kiss  from  each  of  his  young  cousins,  and 
promises  that  we  always  would  remerriber  him,  we  saw  the  last  of 
him  that  we  were  destined  to  see,  till  death  and  time  had  driven 
us  from  our  retreat,  and  wrought  a  good  many  sad  changes  in 
our  circle. 

Dear  cousin  Tyrell !  I  am  glad  I  can  associate  his  visit  with 
all  the  other  happy  recollections  of  our  life  at  Castleton. 


CG  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Let  it  not  longer  be  a  forlorn  hope 

To  wash  an  Ethiope ; 

He's  washt ;  his  gloomy  skin  a  peaceful  shade 
For  his  white  soul  is  made  : 
And  now,  I  doubt  not  the  Eternal  Dove 

A  black-faced  house  will  love. 

R.  CRASHAW.    1C4G. 

ANOTHER  winter  holidays  had  passed — two  other  school  half 
years,  and  Max  and  I  were  once  more  on  the  road  to  spend 
another  six  weeks  at  dear  Castleton.  Max  had  the  box  seat  of 
the  coach,  and  took  the  ribbons.  For  many  holidays,  Veronica, 
on  her  white  pony,  caracolling  by  the  side  of  Brown  Tony  and 
cousin  Lomax,  had  met  us  on  the  bridge  which  spans  the  little 
stream  that  runs  by  Castleton.  This  time,  although  the  day  was 
fair  and  bright,  though  the  blue  waters  gurgled  merrily  beneath 
the  old  stone  arches,  and  the  little  stream  seemed  all  on  fire  with 
the  red  light  of  the  sun,  as  we  came  up  to  the  bridge,  there  was 
no  one  on  the  lookout  for  our  arrival. 

"Hullo!  Mrs.  Wilkinson,"  I  heard  Max  say,  as  the  coach 
stopped  to  leave  a  parcel  at  the  toll-house.  "Have  you  seen 
Mr.  and  Miss  Lomax  about,  anywhere  ?" 

And  I  heard  Mrs.  Wilkinson  answer  that  the  old  black  woman 
was  ill  up  at  the  Hall. 

The  carriage  waited  for  us  in  the  village,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  67 

The  coachman  confirmed  the  report.  The  doctor  had  confessed 
that  day,  that  poor  old  Mammy  could  not  live  much  longer. 

"  What  will  she  do  without  her,  Max  ?"  I  said ;  "  Vera  is  as 
much  of  a  child  as  she  ever  was,  in  some  respects.  She  will  be 
so  lonely  without  her  Mammy.  It  will  be  dreadful  to  be  so 
lonely,  even  at  Castleton." 

There  was  a  hush  over  Castleton,  as  we  drove  up  to  the  house. 

"  Is  she  dead  ?"  Ave  asked  the  butler,  as  he  came  forward  to 
open  the  carriage  door. 

"  No,  Miss,  they  think  she'll  linger." 

Veronica  had  heard  the  wheels,  and  came  running  down,  the 
stairs  with  trace^  of  tears  -upon  her  swollen  face,  to  bid  us  wel 
come. 

"  Oh,  Max !     Oh,  Molly !"  she  cried,  as  she  threw  herself  into 

• 
our  amis.     "  I  try  to  be  good  and  patient,  and  to  trust.     Mammy 

says  I  ought  to  trust.  But  what  shall  I  do  Avithout  Mammy.  My 
mother  is  dead,  and  my  father  is  dead,  and  I  shall  be  all  alone 
in  the  Avide  Avorld." 

She  had  caught  Mammy's  phrase,  "  all  'lone,  all  'lone,  all  'lone 
in  dis  Avide  Avorl',  honey." 

"  You  Avill  not  be  alone,  dear,  darling  Vera,"  said  we.  "  We 
love  you  dearly,  cousin  Lomax  loves  you,  everybody  loves  you, 
Vera." 

Instinct  taught  us  there  is  no  human  consolation  to  be  offered 
to  bereavement,  except  to  pour  into  its  Avounds  the  balm  of 
love. 

And  Veronica  laid  down  her  head  and  Avept.  "  Don't  stop 
my  crying,  cousin  Max,"  she  said.  "  It  does  me  good.  I  try 
not  to  cry  much  in  her  chamber." 

We  Avent  sadly  to  our  rooms,  and  took  off  our  travelling 
things.  We  dined  alone  with  cousin  Lomax. 


68  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  The  poor  child  will  have  to  go  to  school,"  he  said,  "  when 
the  old  woman  dies.  There  will  be  no  one  to  take  care  of  her." 

Veronica's  dinner  was  sent  up  to  her.  Towards  sunset,  a  mes 
sage  was  brought  down  that  Mammy  was  awake,  and  wanted  us 
to  come  to  her. 

The  dying  sunlight  streamed  over  the  bed,  gilding  the  walls 
witli  its  red,  golden  light.  It  fell  upon  the  Bible  in  big  print,  from 
which  Veronica  had  been  reading  that  description  of  the  Celes 
tial  City,  in  the  Book  of  Revelations,  which  has  an  especial 
attraction  for  those  of  Mammy's  race.  It  appeals  more  than  any 
other  passage  of  Holy  Writ,  to  that  which  we  consider  a  defect 
of  taste,  the  love  that  nature  gave  them  for  the  gorgeous. 

Mammy  lay  quietly  when  we  came  in — her  hands  were 
clasped — how  strange  it  seemed,  as  she  lay  yi  her  white  night 
dress,  on  the  white  pillows  and  white  sheets,  that  she  should  be 
black  all  over !  She  lay  gazing  earnestly  at  the  going  down  of 
the  summer's  sun.  It  was  sinking  out  of  sight — going — Mammy 
knew  not  whither.  Was  she  thinking  that  the  next  morning  he 
would  re-appear  above  the  horizon  to  the  eastward,  in  brilliancy 
and  splendor,  and  that  the  other  sinking  light,  would,  when  the 
night  was  passed,  shine  forth  renewed  in  glory  ?  I  think  that 
this  analogy  ranged  above  Mammy's  powers  of  abstract  thought ; 
but  she  drew  Veronica  down,  so  as  to  bring  her  eyes  on  a  level 
with  her  own  range  of  vision,  and  pointed  feebly  to  the  west. 

"  Thar,  chile,  's  whar  Mammy's  gwine — thank  the  Lord.  I  see 
de  towers  and  de  pearly  gates,  an'  de  Lord  is  de  light  thereof." 

"  Yes,  Mammy,"  said  I — inspired  by  the  recollection  of  a  text 
to  express  a  truth  since  deeply  precious  to  my  soul,  but  which  I 
then  hardly  appreciated — "  The  Lord  is  our  light  and  our  salva 
tion,  whom  shall  we  fear  ?  The  Lord  is  the  strength  of  our  life, 
of  whom,  then,  shall  we  be  afraid  ?" 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  69 

"I'se  not  'fraid  to  die,  an'  be  with  de  Lord,  honey."  There 
was  another  pause  beside  the  bed  of  death.  The  sun  was  sink 
ing  low  behind  the  woods,  flickering  through  the  shadows  of  the 
leaves  upon  the  grass,  and  Mammy  watched  it.  . 

At  last  she  said,  "  I  done  left  all  my  chil'en.  My  chil'en  over 
thar,  honeys.  Patsey,  and  Pete  and  Christopher,  and  Joe." 
She  repeated  the  names  slowly.  At  length  she  turned  to  Max, 
and  said,  "  Come  here,  young  Mas'r." 

Max  and  I  had  been  standing  together  full  of  awe,  a  little 
apart  from  the  bed.  He  went  to  her  and  she  stretched  out  her 
wrinkled  hand,  adorned  with  silver  rings,  over  the  Bible  which 
lay  open,  and  took  his  and  drew  him  close  to  her. 

"  You'se  been  inose  like  my  own  chile,  Mas'  Max — you'se  been 
mighty  fond  of  Mammy,  ever  sense  you  was  a  boy,  honey." 

"  I  am  very  fond  of  you,  and  I  always  was,  dear  Mammy.  Is 
there  anything  I  can  do  for  you  ?  I'll  do  anything  you  ask  me, 
Mammy,"  he  said,  perceiving  there  was  something  on  her  mind, 
and  that  she  paused  either  to  summon  resolution,  or  to  gain 
breath  to  ask  him. 

"  Patsey,  an  Pete,  an  Christopher,  an  Joe,"  she  repeated  to  her 
self,  "  and  I  done  love  dis  chile  of  mine  too  well — too  well,  honey." 

I  think  that  what  was  troubling  her,  was  a  conviction  that  she 
had  loved  her  master's  child — her  little  white  nursling — better 
than  her  own  flesh  and  blood. 

"  We'll  write  to  them,"  said  Max,  "  and  tell  them  that  you 
thought  about  them  to  the  last.  But  you  will  get  better,  Mammy." 

"  Yes,  honey — but  you'll  never  sell  one  of  'em  for  poor  ole 
Mammy's  sake,  promise  me  that !"  she  said,  rising  in  her  bed 
with  an  energy  for  which  Ave  were  quite  unprepared,  and  grasp 
ing  Max's  hand  in  both  of  her  own,  and  looking  into  his  face 
wildly  and  earnestly. 


70  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  /  sell  them  ?  what  do  you  mean,  Mammy  ?" 

'"  Mas1  Tom  he  lent  money  to  my  ole  Mas'r,  an  he  had  my 
chil'en,  Joe,  au  Patsey,  an  Christopher,  an  Pete.  Dey's  living  all 
now  up  on  his  farm  at  Oatlands,  way  dar  in  Clarke  County." 

"  Cousin  Lomax  wouldn't  sell  them,  Mammy — you  may  be 
certain  of  that." 

-  An  you  ?"  she  gasped.  "  He  done  make  you  his  heir — you'll 
never  sell  them  way  dar  down  South — way  from  whar  dey's 
born  an  brung  up,  way  down  de  ribber,  whar  de  cotton's  grown  ? 
Promise  me  dat.  Promise  ole  Mammy  dat  you'll  never  do  dat 
ar,  honey." 

"Mammy,  I  cannot  promise.  I  do  not  know  what  cousin 
Lomax  is  going  to  do  with  his  Virginia  estate.  I  do  not  suppose 
he  will  give  his  American  property  to  me.  It  is  only  Castleton 
that  I  am  to  have,"  said  Max,  dreadfully  embarrassed. 

The  old  woman's  face  worked  painfully,  "  De  Lord  have  mercy 
on  my  chil'ens  sure  enuf,"  she  said,  "  if  any  o'  them  Williamses 
gets  hold  on  'em." 

"Oh!  Max — Max,"  Veronica  cried,  "promise  her,  condition 
ally — promise  to  consult  her  wishes  if  ever  you  should  own  them." 

"Veronica,  it  may  be  you." 

'•  Mammy,  dear  darling  Mammy,"  she  cried,  "  listen  to  Max 
and  me.  Hear  us  both  promise  you.  We  do  not  know  how  it 
may  be,  but  if  ever  we  can,  we  will  both  do  all  in  our  power  to 
help  and  be  kind  to  Patsey,  Peter,  Joe  and  Christopher.  And 
we  will  never  forget  our  promise,  but  we  will  try  and  do  our  best 
to  fulfill  it,  Mammy — and  try  to  make  a  way  to  help  them,  and 
to  do  them  good.  Won't  we,  dear  Max  ?  Do  promise  her." 

"  Indeed  I  promise,  I  will  set  them  free  if  they  ever  belong  to 
me,  Mammy." 

';  An'  Mas'  Max,"  she  said,  still  keeping  hold  of  his  hand,  "  I 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  Yl 

done  so  love  dis  chile,"  looking  earnestly  at  Veronica.  "I'se 
gwine  leave  dis  worl,'  Mas'r.  I  'spects  you  larnt  to  love  my 
sweet  chile  mose  well  as  her  ole  Mammy.  Mas'  Max,  ain't  you 
bin  gwine  to  marry  my  Veronica  ?  Tell  me — ain't  she  bin  gwine 
to  be  your  wife,  honey  ?  I  'spected  to  live  to  see  dat  wedding- 
day — but  de  Lord,  He  knows — de  Lord,  He  knows,  honey.  Tell 
me  'bout  it,  chil'en — tell  me  'bout  it  while  I  live,  an  den  I  shall 
die  happy." 

She  had  taken  their  two  hands  and  pressed  them  together  in 
both  hers,  over  the  open  Bible.  "  Oh !  Mammy,  please  don't  say 
such  dreadful  things.  Don't,  don't  say  you  are  going  to  die," 
said  Veronica. 

"Dear  Mammy,"  said  Max,  grasping  Veronica's  hand  more 
firmly  in  his  own.  "  We  are  very  young,  perhaps  " 

"  Yes — too  young — too  young,"  said  Veronica,  drawing  away 
her  hand  to  hide  her  face,  and  burying  her  blushes  in  her  old 
Mammy's  breast,  which  was  unnecessary  in  the  darkness.  "  No, 
cousin  Max — don't,  please,  Max.  Oh!  Max,  she  is  fainting 
away.  Her  head  is  falling  on  my  shoulder,  Max.  Call  help ! 
Sarah !  Molly !" 

They  laid  the  old  woman,  very  much  exhausted,  back  in  her 
bed.  The  moon,  passing  out  of  a  light  cloud,  shone  full  into 
the  chamber  of  death,  lighting  up  my  brother's  face,  as  he 
passed  his  arm  around  Veronica,  and  whispered  in  the  ear,  deaf 
to  the  promise  that  he  wished  to  give,  "Veronica  and  I 
together  promise,  always  to  consider  your  children's  interests. 
Neither  of  us  ever  can  forget  how  tenderly  you  have  loved  her." 

She  did  not  die  that  night,  though  she  was  dying  then.  The 
strength  of  her  constitution  was  such,  that  death  could  not  take 
the  stronghold  by  assault.  She  lived  into  the  next  day,  and 
then  died  quietly.  The  last  sign  of  life  she  gave,  was  to  foel 


72  OtIR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

about  her  blindly  for  the  hand  of  Max,  and  attempt  to  unite  it 
with  that  of  Veronica. 

"What  was  that  last  thing  Mammy  said  to  Veronica  and 
Max  ?"  asked  cousin  Lomax,  some  days  after. 

"About  being  married,  I  think,  sir,"  I  answered,  with  a  blush. 
"  15ut  Veronica  is  too  young  to  think  of  such  things." 

I  was  more  than  a  year  older. 

"Old  Mammy  was  a  very  uncommon  woman,"  said  cousin 
Lomax.  "Trust  an  old  Virginia  servant  for  finding  out  the 
wishes  of  his  Master  !  Veronica  is  mighty  sweet — the  sweetest 
thing  I  ever  saw ;  and  your  brother  will  be  a  credit  to  his 
family.  I  mean  to  put  him  into  the  army,  Molly." 

So  cousin  Lomax,  unsolicited,  gave  a  tacit  consent  to  the 
understanding  between  Max  and  Veronica.  I  do  not  suppose 
the  children  talked  of  marriage,  and  I  never  asked  them,  for  I 
had  been  brought  up  in  a  very  strict  school  of  propriety,  and 
taught  that  love-making  was  an  improper  pastime.  But  here 
\\  as  a  case  where  everybody  seemed  to  regard  it  with  compla 
cency.  "  All  heavenly  aspects  "  seemed  to  smile  on  this  attach 
ment.  The  naughty  little  god  laid  like  a  foundling  at  our  gates, 
had  been  brought  in,  welcomed,  dandled  in  our  midst,  and 
adopted  by  the  family.  He  seemed  to  like  his  entertainment. 
He  took  the  darts  out  of  his  roguish  eyes,  and  laid  aside  his 
mischief.  There  were  no  signs  of  his  little  wings  as  yet.  Max 
went  nowhere  unaccompanied  by  Veronica.  Propriety  apart,  I 
used  to  feel  a  little  lonely  as  I  watched  them  Avalking  up  and 
dmvn  the  gravel  paths,  at  early  morning  or  by  moonlight,  her 
pretty  head  a  little  bent,  while  Max,  in  a  low  voice,  was  talking 
to  her.  Adam  and  Eve,  when  they  talked  love,  must  have  done 
it  in  a  whisper. 

And,  being  loved  had  a  charming  influence  upon  Veronica. 


OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA.  73 

She  was  more  winning  than  ever  to  her  uncle ;  who  was  always 
throwing  out  hints  of  his  approbation  of  the  state  of  things 
between  her  and  my  brother. 

They  read  out  of  the  same  books — they  talked  endlessly 
together.  She  would  sing  like  a  little  wild  song-bird,  all  the 
music  that  he  liked,  in  the  sweet  English  hour  of  twilight,  which 
all  lovers  love.  They  rode  together  every  day  on  horseback. 
They  had  a  hundred  merry  jokes,  for,  after  all,  they  were  but 
children.  I  found  them  with  a  basin  of  soap-suds,  and  two  long 
pipes,  blowing  prismatic  soap-bubbles. 

The  world  of  Veronica,  was  Max ;  the  world  of  Max,  was 
Veronica.  Had  all  the  universe  been  blotted  out,  excepting  an 
area  of  twenty  miles  round  Castleton,  it  would  scarcely  have 
given  either  of  them  an  uneasy  thought. 

Love  rarely  gives  the  right-hand  of  fellowship  to  laughter. 
Little  dwarf  hopes,  and  great,  dim  Genii-like  fears,  according  to 
my  experience,  wait  upon  his  steps  and  travel  in  his  company. 
But  for  once  he  had  given  the  slip  to  his  grim  escort,  and  had 
started  off  on  a  frolic  by  himself,  before  his  usual  wraking  hour. 

Her  dear  old  Mammy's  death  had  tamed  Veronica's  gay 
spirits,  and  Love,  when  he  first  found  her,  had  nestled  at  her  side, 
with  a  brief  show  of  sympathy.  But  very  soon  his  inborn  rest 
lessness  prompted  him  to  stir  up  his  young  playmate,  and  before 
the  holidays  were  ended,  we  had  many  a  game  of  romps,  in 
which  the  truant  rogue  played  a  gay  part  at  Castleton. 

Neither  Veronica  nor  I  ever  dreamed  of  disputing  the  fact, 
that  Max  was  the  handsomest,  wittiest,  cleverest,  bravest  and 
most  generous  of  human  creatures.  Max  thought  so  himself 
very  likely.  He  exercised  a  very  absolute  sovereignty  at  Castle, 
ton.  Veronica  was  not  even  his  queen-consort.  She  had  abdi 
cated  in  his  favor.  It  was  her  pleasure  to  bring  him  incense,  to 

3 


74  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

wait  upon  him  in  a  russet  gown,  and  be  his  hand-maiden.  I 
could  see  this  disposition  to  worship,  stealing  over  her  in  sober 
moments;  while  Max  complacently  put  on  the  royal  purple, 
cocked  his  crown  jauntily,  and  made  himself  at  ease  upon  his 
comfortable  throne. 

We  might  have  got  tired  of  this  sport  at  last,  and  Love 
would  have  borrowed  some  trick  of  cousin  Puck,  or  have  ram 
bled  away  by  stress  of  ennui,  had  not  the  summer  holidays  come 
to  a  conclusion. 

Max  had  left  his  grammar-school,  and  was  going  to  study 
fortification  with  a  tutor  in  London. 

I  was  to  return  to  the  establishment  of  Miss  Lucas,  where  my 
education  was  being  "finished,"  as  it  was  called;  and  cousin 
Lomax  had  arranged  I  should  be  accompanied  by  Veronica. 
During  the  last  week  of  the  holidays,  our  cousin's  spirits  drooped. 
She  would  steal  up  into  Mammy's  room,  where  Max  often  went  in 
search  of  her.  If  there  were  tears  upon  her  cheeks,  he  kissed 
them  away ;  if  the  loss  of  her  old  Mammy's  watchful  love  made 
her  lonely  at  heart,  it  surely  needed  but  few  words  from  Max  to 
fill  the  void.  Yet  many  sad  tears  fell  into  her  trunks  as  she  was 
packing  them.  Mammy  had  had  a  personal  regard  for  the 
pretty  clothes  over  which  she  presided ;  very  pretty  clothes  they 
were,  trimmed  with  an  unusual  quantity  of  lace,  which  was  one 
of  the  dainty  fancies  of  Veronica. 

She  insisted  on  going  everywhere,  and  taking  a  last  leave  of 
every  one  at  Castleton.  We  knew  how  they  would  miss  her 
at  the  Rectory,  where  the  dust  of  the  Doctor's  study  had  been 
illuminated  by  her  presence,  like  a  gleam  of  daily  sunshine.  lie 
took  her  into  that  sanctum  by  herself,  away  from  Max,  and  me, 
and  Miss  Alicia,  and  meant  to  give  her  good  adrice,  but,  some 
how,  he  could  only  press  into  her  hand  Mrs.  Chapone's  letters, 


O  0  R      COUSIN      VERONICA.  75 

his  voice  faltered,  and  he  folded  her  in  his  arms,  and  gave  her  a 
loving-  blessing.  The  old  square  piano  in  the  little,  cold  drawing- 
room,  where  she  had  been  used  to  practice,  would  miss  her  daily 
touch,  and  the  bottle  of  snakes  in  spirits  of  wine,  sent  home  from 
India  by  a  gallant  son,  now  dead,  in  shaking  which,  she  had 
daily  wasted  idle  moments  during  her  practising  hour.  And 
kind  Miss  Alicia  Dwyer  would  miss  her  pupil  very  sadly,  and 
was  preparing  a  great  basket  of  light  pastry  and  rich  cake  to 
console  her  at  the  moment  of  departure. 

At  church  on  the  last  Sunday,  kind  looks  followed  her  as  she 
went  weeping  down  the  aisle,  for  all  the  people  loved  her. 

The  housekeeper  and  butler  had  a  hundred  directions  given 
them  about  the  pony  and  dear  Luath,  the  swans,  the  owl,  and  all 
the  other  dumb,  tame  creatures,  who  would  surely  watch,  with 
"  hope  deferred,"  for  the  brightness  of  her  coming.  And  though 
cousin  Lomax  did  not  choose  to  say  how  lonely  he  should  be 
without  her,  we  saw  he  had  hard  Avork  to  keep  his  spirits  up, 
and  that  when  he  told  her  over  and  over  ajjain  that  the  change 

o  o 

was  for  her  good,  he  was  speaking  to  himself  rather  than  to  her. 
The  hardest  parting  was  from  Luath.  He  knew  that  something 
was  going  on,  and  kept  close  to  her.  The  butler  had  orders  from 
cousin  Lomax  to  put  a  rope  through  his  collar,  and  to  tie  him 
up  when  we  were  gone ;  and  when  Veronica  saw  this  prepara 
tion,  as  she  came  down  the  stairs  on  the  morning  of  departure, 
her  fortitude  forsook  her ;  she  threw  her  arms  round  Luath's 
neck,  and  passionately  kissed  his  hairy  face,  and  sobbed  so  uncon 
trollably,  that  cousin  Lomax  was  forced  to  disengage  her  arms, 
and  put  her  almost  fainting  into  the  carriage. 


76  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 


CHAPTER   VII. 
i 

"  Ah !  these  children,  these  children !"  said  Mr.  Churchill,  as  he  sat  down  at  the 
tea-table ;  "  we  ought  to  love  them  very  much,  now,  for  we  shall  not  have  them  long 
with  us."  "Good  heavens!"  exclaimed  his  wife,  "  what  do  you  mean?  Does  any 
thing  ail  them?  Are  they  going  to  die?"  "I  hope  not;  but  they  are  going  to  grow 
up,  and  be  no  longer  children." 

II.  W.  LOSOFKLLOW.    Kavanagh. 

AT  the  first  large  town  upon  our  route,  we  changed  our 
carriage  for  the  London  mail,  for  the  experience  of  life  had 
taught  more  wisdom  to  cousin  Lomax  than  to  our  grandfather, 
who  was  of  one  mind  with  that  O'Flaherty,  who  boasted  to  the 
O'Flannagan,  "  that  the  founder  of  his  house  was  not  saved  in 
Noah's  ark,  for  that  his  family  had  never  patronized  public 
conveyances." 

Towards  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  we  reached  a  large,  lone 
inn,  at  the  spot  where  the  road  into  the  eastern  counties 
branched  from  that  to  London. 

Here,  our  father,  Col.  Mandeville,  who  was  to  take  Veronica 
and  me  to  the  Cathedral  town,  upon  the  outskirts  of  which 
stood  Miss  Lucas's  establishment,  was  looking  out  for  us.  Max 
was  to  continue  his  journey  to  town  with  cousin  Lomax.  The 
parting  was  necessarily  brief  between  him  and  Veronica. 

As  our  coach  drove  up  to  the  large,  lonely,  haunted-looking 
inn,  we  saw  a  very  handsome  barouche  packed,  but  without 
horses,  standing  before  the  door.  An  elegant  looking  young  man 


OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA.  77 

in  a  shooting  jacket,  was  giving  orders  to  a  servant  dressed  in 
livery,  and  rather  conspicuous  arms  were  emblazoned  on  the 
panels. 

"  It  is  Sir  Harris  Howard's  carriage,"  said  our  father,  answer 
ing  my  inquiring  look,  as  he  let  down  the  iron  steps  and  opened 
the  coach  door. 

During  the  brief  moments  while  the  horses  were  being 
changed,  Veronica  and  Max  stood  together  on  the  porch.  Her 
veil  was  down,  and  she  was  crying.  I  went  away  and  stood  at 
my  father's  side,  that  I  might  not  interrupt  their  parting. 

"  The  Begum  is  here,"  said  my  father,  "  and  is  going  to  put 
her  little  girl  under  the  care  of  Miss  Lucas,  at  Fairfield.  That 
young  man  is  the  nephew  of  Sir  Harris,  and  heir  presumptive 
to  the  Baronetcy.  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Howard  ?" 

And  now  the  note  of  preparation  sounded  from  the  guard's 
horn  on  the  back  seat  of  the  mail.  Cousin  Lomax  hastily  wrung 
our  father's  hand,  and  kissed  Veronica.  Max  followed  his 
example.  They  were  gone  ! 

"  Come  into  the  house,"  my  father  said,  opening  the  door  of 
the  best  parlor  of  the  inn.  "  I  suppose  we  shall  find  the  Begum." 

But  on  entering  it  I  was  disappointed,  only  a  dark  com- 
plexioned,  weird  looking  child  was  in  the  room. 

My  father  shook  his  head.  "  Chee-chee"  he  whispered.  " I 
arn  too  much  of  a  Virginian  to  like  that.  It  is  common  enough, 
though.  There  are  plenty  of  them." 

"  Chec-chee,  papa  ?     What's  that  ?" 

"  Hush,"  said  my  father,  and  as  he  said  this,  the  door  opened, 
and  a  remarkable  looking  female  entered  the  room.  She  was  a 
tall  woman,  with  a  very  dark  skin,  soft,  lustrous,  East-Indian 
eyes,  and  on  her  head  she  wore  a  large  white  muslin  turban.  I 
knew  her  at  once.  Her  husband's  place  was  on  the  outskirts 


78  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

of  our  town.  I  had  seen  her  often  as  she  rode  in  her  barouche, 
with  her  postillions  and  four  horses.  I  had  run  to  the  window 
many  times  and  gaped  at  the  dusty  vision.  The  good  lady  stood 
to  me  as  an  impersonation  of  royalty.  There  was  about  her  in 
my  childish  eyes,  some  of  the  "  divinity  that  doth  hedge  a  king," 
rendered  far  more  palpable  and  personal  than  any  royalty, 
elective  or  divine,  that  I  have  seen  since  by  a  semi-orientalism 
of  costume.  The  Begum's  white  muslin  turban  was,  in  my  eyes, 
a  crown.  The  cashmere  shawl,  in  which  her  long,  lean  form 
was  always  wrapped,  was  her  imperial  purple. 

My  father  was  too  much  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  times, 
and  the  public  opinion  of  the  place,  not  to  feel  a  sort  of  reverence 
for  the  swart  wearer  of  the  turban,  not  at  all  upon  the  grounds 
of  her  "  majesty"  or  "  right  divine,"  but  because  she  was  the  lady 
of  General  Sir  Harris  Iloward,  Baronet,  proprietor  of  one  of  the 
most  noble  parks  in  England,  which  had  been  in  his  family  since 
the  days  of  the  Conqueror.  Sir  Harris  was  the  greatest  man  of 
our  town.  He  noticed,  with  regal  condescension,  the  officers  in 
garrison.  He  lent  the  weight  of  his  presence  upon  public  days, 
as  patron  of  his  borough-town  and  president  of  her  charitable 
institutions.  The  name  of  Sir  Harris  Iloward  gave  sanction  to 
subscriptions.  His  voice  was  awful  on  the  magistrates'  bench. 
He  gave  his  countenance  to  high  Toryism.  His  patronage  was 
a  tower  of  strength  to  our  venerable  establishment.  Nay,  I  am 
not  sure  he  did  not  patronize  the  King. 

Our  father  had  dined  frequently  at  Howard  Park,  and  saluted 
the  Begum  as  she  came  into  the  inn  parlor. 

"  Come  here  and  speak  to  Lady  Howard,  Moll ;  she  is  going 
to  take  her  little  daughter  to  your  school,"  said  he,  accompany 
ing  his  speech  with  an  admonitory  look  which  said,  "  Hold  up 
your  head,  Molly." 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  79 

The  Begum  was  a  person  of  but  few  ideas,  and  of  few  words. 
I  have  no  reason  to  believe  she  ever  had  received  an  European 
education.  She  was  a  sort  of  wonderful  gilt  doll  at  Howard 
Park,  rather  in  keeping  Avith  the  mystery  and  magnificence  of 
that  august  establishment. 

Veronica  sat  apart  upon  a  sofa,  with  her  veil  over  her  face, 
while  I  endeavored  to  make  acquaintance  with  the  weird  child, 
who  was  the  daughter  of  the  Begum.  She  asked  me  a  few 
questions  about  Fairfield,  and  what  Veronica's  name  was,  and 
why  she  was  crying.  After  which,  she  turned  her  back  upon 
me,  kneeling  in  the  window-seat,  and  fixed  her  attention  on  her 
cousin  in  the  shooting-coat,  who  was  holding  parley  with  the 
landlord,  and  commending  the  four  splendid  Howard  bays  to  his 
especial  care. 

I  turned  to  Veronica  and  tried  to  comfort  her.  My  father 
was  conversing  in  a  low  voice  with  the  Begum.  But  Veronica 
refused  comfort.  She  was  at  all  times  ready  to  share  her  plea 
sures.  If  any  happiness  were  granted  to  her,  she  renewed  the 
miracle  of  the  loaves  and  fishes,  making  her  portion  for  one 
multiply  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  around  her ;  but  when  she 
was  in  trouble,  she  was  always  reserved. 

I  walked  to  the  window  and  examined  the  names  cut 
in  the  glass.  I  was  uncomfortably  impressed  by  the  Howard 
superiority.  The  landlord  and  the  landlady,  the  hostlers,  pos 
tillions,  chambermaid,  and  boots  all  bowed  down  to  the 
barouche  with  the  four  horses. 

As  I  stood  beside  Miss  Howard,  thinking  thus,  Mr.  Howard 
came  into  the  room,  and  summoned  his  aunt  and  cousin  to  the 
carriage. 

"  That  is  a  fine  young  man,"  my  father  said,  as  they  drove 
off. 


80  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"Very,"  I  replied,  "but  I  did  not  like  the  rest  of  them;  I 
thought  they  looked  down  upon  me  and  Veronica." 

"  Nonsense !"  said  my  father,  in  a  tone  a  little  cross — I  suspect 
he  had  been  suffering  from  such  feelings  during  his  conversation 
with  the  Begum. 

"But,  papa,"  I  persisted,  drawing  forth  under  the  pressure  of 
wounded  feelings,  a  thought  Avhich  I  had  never  presented  to  his 
notice  till  that  moment ;  "  was  not  Pocahontas  an  Indian  prin 
cess  ?  And  are  not  we  descended  from  Pocahontas  ?  And  was 
not  Pocahontas  as  good  as  the  Begum  ?" 

"  Stuff,  child  !  hold  your  tongue.  An  English  lady  is  a  lady, 
the  Queen  can  be  no  more.  Tell  them  you  are  a  Miss  Mande- 
ville,  of  Virginia.  That  your  ancestors  were  ladies  and  gentle 
men,  and  spent  their  money  royally,  and  owned  and  lost  mag 
nificent  estates,  while  the  grandfathers  and  fathers  of  half  our 
would-be-aristocracy,  sold  farthing  candles  in  small  shops,  or  car 
ried  the  hod.  As  to  these  Howards ! — Don't  let  me  hear  again 
of  Pocahontas.  My  family  is  tainted  with  no  savage  blood." 

In  spite  of  the  tone  in  which  my  father  spoke  of  this  alliance 
with  East  Indian  royalty,  our  officers  would  put  off  any  other 
engagement  to  accept  an  invitation  from  Sir  Harris  Howard. 
Sir  Harris,  to  be  sure,  kept  a  good  cook,  and  was  a  distinguished 
general  officer.  He  had  served  in  early  life  in  India,  where  he 
had  been  made  English  Resident  at  the  court  of  some  Nabob  or 
Rajah,  and  had  married  the  Rajah's  or  Nabob's  daughter.  The 
Resident  thus  connected  by  marriage  with  the  native  court, 
lived  in  regal  splendor  at  his  Residency,  and  on  his  recall  to 
England,  brought  with  him  a  large  establishment  of  native 
servants,  lakhs  of  rupees,  strings  upon  strings  of  diamonds, 
pearls,  and  rubies,  and  his  princess,  the  Begum.  The  servants, 
one  by  one  returned  to  India.  The  jewels  and  rupees  (con- 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  81 

verted  into  India  Stock),  renewed  the  long  decaying  grandeur 
of  Howard  Park ;  and  the  bride  grew  old,  but  never  Anglified, 
amongst  the  stately  magnificence  of  her  occidental  home.  There 
was  a  solemnity  about  the  grand  old  gloomy  place,  which 
may  have  suited  her  Indian  hareernic  notions  of  seclusion  and 
propriety.  She  drove  about  the  country  with  four  horses,  and 
her  carriage  and  her  "  natives  "  astonished  the  natives  of  our 
neighborhood. 

By  degrees,  the  Begum  grew  a  fixed  fact  in  the  history  of  that 
part  of  the  country.  She  took  little  share  in  social  interests 
and  none  at  all  in  political  or  borough  life,  as  the  lady  of  How 
ard  Park,  under  other  circumstances,  might  have  been  expected 
to  have  done ;  but  a  real,  live  princess,  was  a  credit  to  the 
neighborhood,  and  the  little  known  of  her  by  the  public,  was  not 
of  a  nature  to  render  her  unpopular.  She  went  to  Church  in 
state,  with  all  her  family.  Her  daughter  had  been  Christianly 
baptized.  She  had  borne  Sir  Harris  several  sons  who  had 
died  in  India,  but  this  was  not  regretted  in  the  neighbor 
hood,  where  his  orphan  nephew,  Harry  Howard,  the  heir 
presumptive  of  the  Baronetcy,  was  decidedly  popular.  He  rode 
with  the  hounds,  accepted  invitations  to  the  mess-table,  and  his 
acquaintance  was  in  request  among  the  younger  officers. 

Miss  Lucas's  establishment  at  Fairfield,  was  situated  in  a 
Cathedral  town,  and  patronized  by  the  best  families  in  the 
Eastern  counties. 

I  had  been  the  pupil  of  Miss  Lucas  several  years,  and  there 
had  been  frequent  propositions  on  my  father's  part,  that  I 
should  be  accompanied  by  Veronica.  But  cousin  Lomax,  till 
old  Mammy's  death,  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  advice  upon  this 
subject,  and  Veronica  was  suffered  to  grow  up  unpruned  and 

4* 


82  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

trained  and  clipped,  while  all  my  natural  dispositions  were  sub 
jected  to  unnatural  educational  processes.  But  1  was  always  a 
perverse  and  sturdy  plant,  and  never  had  been  much  of  a  favorite 
in  the  school,  either  with  the  scholars  or  teachers.  I  had  no 
county  influence,  which  counted  for  a  good  deal  in  the  establish 
ment.  My  father  was  suspected  of  Radicalism,  and  had  American 
associations.  I  caught  little  of  the  "esprit  du  corps,"  led  by  the 
favorites  and  adopted  by  the  masses.  I  was  not  a  pretty  child. 
My  disposition  was  thought  odd,  and  I  always  wore  the  red  mark 
for  "  bad  carriage." 

Under  these  disadvantages,  I  was  not  the  person  to  introduce 
Veronica  favorably  at  Fairfield.  A  great  fuss  was  made  over  the 
accession  of  so  important  a  pupil  as  the  daughter  of  Sir  Harris 
Howard  and  the  Begum,  while  the  entree  of  Veronica  Lomax 
into  the  school  ranks  was  comparatively  disregarded. 

I  suppose  some  of  the  girls  drew  from  Miss  Howard,  the  new 
favorite,  an  account  of  what  she  had  observed  about  Veronica 
and  Max  during  the  few  moments  she  had  watched  them  from 
the  window,  for  after  a  few  days  I  began  to  perceive  we  were 
looked  upon  with  disfavor  by  the  authorities,  and  were  kept  as 
much  as  possible  apart  from  the  other  pupils. 

I  noticed  this  more  than  Veronica,  who  was  wrapped  up  in 
her  own  thoughts,  but  I  was  very  sensitive  about  popular  con 
sideration,  and  was  anxious  to  persuade  everybody  that  Miss 
Lomax,  of  Castleton,  witli  her  pretensions  to  family  in  the  Old 
Dominion  was  "  quite  as  good,"  as  I  called  it,  as  Miss  Howard, 
of  Howard  Park,  the  daughter  of  the  Begum. 

"Is  Miss  Lomax  heiress  of  Castleton?"  asked  one  of  a  group 
of  elder  girls  with  whom  I  had  been  discussing  the  subject. 

"No — not  in  her  own  right;  but  she  is  going  to  marry  my 
brother,  who  is  to  inherit  Castleton.'' 


o  r  R    COUSIN    VERONICA.  83 

As  I  said  this,  I  became  conscious  that  Miss  Lucas,  entering 
the  room,  had  overheard  me.  It  was  the  post-hour,  and  she  had 
letters  in  her  hand.  She  ordered  me  back  to  my  desk,  and  dis 
tributed  the  letters,  retaining  one,  however,  in  her  hand. 

Veronica  came  into  the  room  and  took  a  French  lesson. 
When  the  school  was  dismissed,  a  message  from  Miss  Lucas 
summoned  both  of  us  into  a  small  room  she  called  her  boudoir. 
I  knew  that  something  dreadful  was  on  the  point  of  taking  place, 
but  Veronica,  less  accustomed  than  I  was  to  the  habits  of  the 
house,  attended  the  summons  with  indifference. 

Miss  Lucas  (I  can  see  her  now,  dressed  in  red  cashmere 
worked  with  little  yellow  dots,  and  a  cap  trimmed  with  yeljow 
ribbons)  stood,  stern  and  forbidding,  in  the  centre  of  the  floor. 

"  I  sent  for  you,  Miss  Lomax,  to  receive  this  letter." 

The  warm  blood  mounted  in  Veronica's  fair  face.  Miss  Lucas 
saw  it 

"  Come  and  go  with  tidings  from  the  heart, 
As  it  a  running  messenger  had  been." 

She  turned  the  direction  of  the  letter  to  Veronica,  and  said,  "  I 
wisli  to  ascertain,  Miss  Lomax,  if  you  know  who  wrote  this  letter  ?" 

"  Yes  ma'am — my  cousin  Max,"  said  Veronica  faintly. 

"  Are  you  aware,  Miss  Lomax,  that  young  ladies  at  Fail-field 
are  not  allowed  to  correspond  with  school-boys  or  with  gentle 
men  1  It  is  not  the  rule  at  Fairfield  (whatever  it  may  be  in 
other  establishments  for  the  education  of  young  ladies)  for  your 
governess  to  read  the  correspondence  of  your  parents.  From 
your  parents  we  presume  you  can  hear  nothing  wrong.  But  all 
other  letters — letters  from  brothers,  sisters,  and  young  lady 
friends,  are  read  by  me,  or  by  my  sister,  before  they  are  deliver 
ed  to  our  pupils.  Correspondence  with  young  gentlemen  is 
absolutely  prohibited." 


84  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Veronica  hung  down  her  head.  There  was  poor  Max's  letter 
within  reach,  and  its  perusal  was  denied  to  her.  The  tears 
gathered  in  her  eyes,  but  she  did  not  say  a  word. 

"Where  is  your  cousin  now?"  said  Miss  Lucas. 

"He  has  gone  to  a  tutor  near  London,  to  study  fortification, 
and  by  and  by  he  is  to  go  into  the  army,"  said  Veronica  tremb 
lingly. 

"  You  will  not  be  permitted  to  hold  any  correspondence  with 
him,"  said  Miss  Lucas.  "For  this  once,"  she  added,  "I  will 
break  the  seal,  and  if  there  is  anything  proper  for  you  to  receive 
I  will  give  it  you." 

"  Oh !  if  you  please,  Madam,"  said  Veronica,  frightened  at  the 
impression  a  rhapsody  from  Max  might  produce  upon  Miss 
Lucas,  "I  had  much  rather  you  would  burn  my  letter  than 
open  it." 

Miss  Lucas  quelled  her  excitement  with  a  look ;  broke  the  seal 
deliberately,  and  glanced  down  the  heavy,  round-hand  pages  of 
the  letter.  When  she  had  done  she  folded  it  lengthways  and 
spoke,  striking  it  across  the  palm  of  her  left  hand,  to  give 
emphasis  to  her  words,  "  Miss  Lomax,  this  is  a  highly  improper 
letter." 

Veronica  was  speechless. 

"  Miss  Mandeville,"  said  Miss  Lucas,  turning  to  me,  "  I  under 
stand  you  have  been  spreading  a  report  among  your  companions, 
that  a  very  improper  state  of  things  exists  between  your  brother, 
Mr.  Mandeville,  and  his  cousin." 

Miss  Lucas  paused  for  a  reply,  and  I  began.  "  If  you  please, 
ma'am,  I  never  said  but  once,  and  that  was  to  Miss  Smith  as 
you  came  in,  that  Max  and  Veronica  were  going  to  marry  each 
other." 

"  Silence!"  said  Miss  Lucas,  with  a  frown.     "Can  you  be  at  all 


OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA.  85 

acquainted  with  the  character  of  this  establishment,  and  believe 
that  I  would  suffer  any  young  lady  to  remain  at  Fairfield  under 
such  circumstances?  Indeed,  young  ladies,  I  owe  it  to  your 
innocent  companions,  to  see  that  they  are  not  corrupted  by  such 
influences.  During  the  years  that  I  have  been  at  Fairfield,  I  have 
never  detected  a  young  lady  receiving  a  flagrant  letter  of  this 
nature  before." 

After  a  pause  :  "  I  shall  write  by  to-night's  post,  both  to  Col. 
Mandeville  and  to  Mr.  Lomax,  requesting  them  unless  this  .... 
unless  all  ideas  of  this  nature  are  given  up,  to  remove  you  from 
my  establishment.  I  have  duties  to  perform  towards  the  other 
young  ladies  who  are  under  my  care.  How  shall  I  answer  to 
other  parents,  if  I  expose  their  daughters  to  bad  influences  ? 
What  shall  I  say,  for  example,  to  Sir  Harris  and  Lady  Howard  ?" 

"  Oh !  Miss  Lucas,"  I  cried  in  terror,  "  you  are  not  going  to 
expel  us  from  Fairfield  ?  It  will  be  a  disgrace  for  life  to  us !" 

"  I  am  very  sorry  ma'am,"  began  Veronica, 

"  Take  your  pen,  Miss  Mandeville,  and  write  to  your  brother 
what  I  shall  dictate,"  said  Miss  Lucas,  interrupting  her. 

"  MY  DEAR  BROTHER  : 

"Miss  Lucas  desires  me  to  inform  you  that  she  has  taken 
possession  of  your  letter  of  the  27th  ultimo,  addressed  to  Miss  Lomax, 
and  will  take  an  early  opportunity  of  placing  it  in  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Lomax,  her  guardian  and  uncle.  She  desires  me  to  add,  that  all  corres 
pondence  between  gentlemen  and  her  young  ladies  is  strictly  forbidden, 
and  so  long  as  Miss  Lomax  or  I  remain  pupils  in  this  establishment, 
she  requests  you  will  abstain  from  addressing  communications  of  any 
nature  to  either  of  us.  I  remain,  with  kind  regards, 
"  Your  affectionate  sister, 

"  MARY  MAXDEVILLE." 

"You   may  go  to   your    chamber,  young   ladies,"  said  Miss 


86  OUR      C  O  U  S  I  X      V  E  K  0   N  I  f  A  . 

Lucas,  "  and  will  stay  there  until  I  receive  answers  to  the  letters 
I  shall  write  your  friends.  Your  meals  will  be  sent  up  to  you. 
I  am  sorry  to  disgrace  you  in  the  eyes  of  the  school,  but  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  for  the  sake  of  the  unblemished  character  of 
this  establishment,  that  misconduct  of  this  nature  should  be  put  a 
stop  to." 

We  passed  a  miserable  week,  as  Pariahs  and  outcasts  from  the 
little  school  society.  We  were  shut  up  in  a  bed-room  by  our 
selves,  as  if  we  should  spread  infection  among  our  schoolfellows. 
Miss  Lucas  visited  us  every  day  to  hear  our  lessons,  and  while 
the  others  were  in  the  school-room,  we  were  suffered  to  walk  for 
an  hour  out  of  sight  in  the  lower  part  of  the  garden. 

At  the  end  of  a  dreadful  week,  during  which  we  had  learned 
"  to  have  a  proper  sense  of  our  conduct,"  as  Miss  Lucas  expressed 
it,  she  sent  for  us  again  into  the  boudoir,  and  told  us  she  had 
received  letters  from  Mr.  Lomax  and  Col.  Mandeville,  which 
were  perfectly  satisfactory.  That  we  might  be  assured  that  our 
parents  would  never  countenance  behavior  or  conversation  such  as 
we  had  been  guilty  of.  And  that  she  had  consented  not  to  disgrace 
us  by  dismission  from  her  school,  on  consideration  that  all 
correspondence  with  my  brother  should  be  given  up,  and  on  the 
assurance  that  we  should  be  thrown  little  in  his  company  during 
the  holiday?.  We  were  also  required  to  promise  that  we  would 
never  speak  on  the  subject  (for  the  sake  of  our  own  reputation, 
said  Miss  Lucas)  with  any  of  the  young  ladies  of  the  establish 
ment,  and  were  admonished  to  dismiss  all  thoughts  of  it  for  ever 
from  our  minds,  as  vain,  light-minded,  and  improper. 

We  promised,  and  went  back  to  the  ordinary  routine  of  school- 
life  and  school  society.  But  a  dreadful  blight  seemed  to  have 
come  upon  us.  We  felt  that  intimacy  with  us  was  suspected  by 
the  teachers.  There  was  a  general  order  givpn.  thnt  we  wore 


OUR      C  O  U  S  I  X      VERONICA.  87 

never  to  walk  with  the  same  girls  two  days  in  succession,  for 
fear  of  corrupting  them  by  our  conversation,  and  they  were  liable 
to  be  cross-questioned  as  to  the  nature  of  what  we  said  to 
them. 

Veronica's  spirits  and  health  gave  way  under  this  discipline, 
and  towards  the  close  of  the  half  year,  they  had  to  be  more  kind 
to  her. 

We  passed  our  winter  holidays  at  my  father's  home,  as  cousin 
Lomax  was  making  some  repairs  at  Castleton.  Max  was  with  us 
in  Christmas  week,  but  Veronica  was  very  reserved  towards  him. 
She  had  learned  to  look  upon  what  had  passed  in  the  light  of 
the  public  opinion  of  Fairfield,  and  before  the  barriers  of  her  shy 
ness  and  remorse  were  broken  down,  it  was  time  for  Max  to 
return  to  his  tutor,  who  only  gave  ten  days  of  holiday  at  Christ 
mas,  and  a  long  vacation  in  September. 

Miss  Howard  asked  us  during  these  holidays  to  Howard  Park. 
She  was  an  ill-educated,  disagreeable  girl,  and  neither  Veronica 
nor  I  liked  her ;  but  Mr.  Howard  was  there,  and  very  kind.  He 
showed  me  a  great  volume  of  the  Hogarth  Gallery,  which  enter 
tained  me  delightfully,  and  I  went  home  coveting  my  neigh 
bor's  house,  especially  a  room  that  Mr.  Howard  said  that  nobody 
cared  for  but  himself — the  magnificent  oak  library. 

The  next  summer  we  spent  six  weeks  at  Castleton,  but  Max 
was  not  there,  for  our  holidays  did  not  agree  with  his  vacation. 

Veronica  drooped  and  missed  him  everywhere,  but  it 
was  pretty  to  see  her  meeting  with  Luath  and  the  pony,  the 
servants  and  the  village  people,  the  Doctor  and  Miss  Dwycr ;  to 
all  of  whom,  as  well  as  to  her  uncle,  her  return  had  been  an 
event  of  pleasing  anticipation.  Her  room  had  been  freshly  painted 
and  papered.  The  old  gardener  had  brought  his  choicest  flower 
pots  to  decorate  her  balcony,  and  Mr.  Lomax,  viewing  her 


88  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

pleasure  in  these  changes  with  complacency,  and  guessing,  per 
haps,  her  secret  thoughts,  said,  smilingly,  "  Xow  all  we  want,  my 
dear,  is  Max,  in  spite  of  old  Miss  Lucas,  and  next  year,  when 
you  come  home  for  good,  he  will  be  here." 

But  before  next  year,  Max  had  gone  into  the  army,  and  his 
regiment  had  been  ordered  to  Ireland.  lie  stopped  to  see  us,  at 
Fairfield,  on  his  way  from  Castleton,  and  paid  us  a  stiff  visit  in 
the  best  parlor,  under  the  frowns  of  Miss  Lucas,  in  whoso 
presence  Veronica,  though  seventeen,  dared  hardly  speak  t- 
him. 

We  left  school  when  the  summer  came,  but  in  vain  expected 
him  at  Castleton.  He  was  looking  after  Ribbandmen  and  stills 
of  illicit  whisky,  and  wrote  word  that  it  was  impossible  to  get 
leave  of  absence  for  more  than  a  few  days.  It  was  not  worth 
while  to  come  to  Castleton  till  he  could  make  a  visit  of  some 
length.  He  had  several  tempting  invitations  from  the  officers  of 
his  regiment,  who  were  Scotchmen,  to  go  with  them  to  the  moors 
that  autumn,  and  to  visit  their  families.  He  talked  a  good  deal 
of  Lord  de  Brousse,  who  was  his  fellow  subaltern,  and  had  made 
several  agreeable  acquaintances,  he  said,  since  he  had  been  in 
Ireland. 


CUE      COUSIN      VERONICA,  89 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

"  Behind  no  prison  grate  she  said, 

Which  slurs  the  sunshine  half  a  mile, 
Are  captives  so  uncomforted 
As  souls  behind  a  smile." 

MRS.  BJROWKINQ. 

IT  is  a  woman's  business  to  look  beneath  the  surface  of  life,  to 
search  out  hidden  causes,  ""to  resist  the  beginnings"  of  pain. 
How  many  heart-aches  are  never  guessed  at  by  those  who  are 
about  our  path,  and  about  our  bed,  day  after  day !  Questions 
are  answered  with  a  cheerful  voice,  even  while  they  break  in  on 
agonizing  thoughts,  and  from  the  inmost  heart  rises  a  cry  of 
pain. 

"  Each  in  its  hidden  sphere  of  joy  or  woe 
Our  hermit  spirits  dwell." 

Talk  of  voyages  of.  discovery  !  you  and  I  know  as  much  of 
public  opinion  in  Timbuctoo  as  we  know  of  the  feelings  agitating 
the  classes  of  society  below  us  or  above  us.  We  conjecture 
more  truly  about  the  frozen  regions  than  we  do  about  the  secret 
thoughts  of  the  young  girl  at  our  side.  She  sits  with  us  beside 
the  evening  lamp,  silent,  and  sewing,  and  the  thoughts  worked 
into  the  worsted  or  the  lace,  are  not  guessed  at  as  we  watch  the 
progress  of  the  crochet  or  embroidery.  Ours  to  her  would  be  a 
mystery.  She  watered  her  couch  with  her  tears  last  night, 


90  OUR      COUSIN"      V  E  K  O  N  I  C  A  . 

while  our  hearts  were  light  in  the  next  chamber.  Her  grief  was 
not  brightened  by  the  reflection  of  our  joy — nor  did  the  shadow 
of  her  cloud  fleck  the  sunshine  of  our  happiness.  The  news  which 
elated  us  would  have  fallen  on  her  ear  as  a  mere  piece  of  intelli 
gence.  The  column  of  the  newspaper  she  turns  to  when  she 
opens  it  we  glance  at  indifferently,  with  careless  eyes.  We  have 
no  secrets  in  our  hearts  which  make  us  eager  about  shipping 
intelligence.  She  would  be  astonished  if  she  knew  we  read  with 
interest  the  money  market  and  city  news.  The  thought  which 
strengthened  us  when  we  laid  down  the  Book  of  God.  and  sank 

O 

upon  our  knees  last  night,  is  not  adapted  to  her  spiritual  condi 
tion.  The  terror  which  walked  in  darkness  round  her  bed  is  an 
enemy  that  we  have  met  and  conquered.  Yet  she  knows  nothing 
of  that  experience,  and  is  painfully  working  out  at  heavy  cost 
an  experience  of  her  own. 

Veronica  ceased  to  talk  to  me  of  Max.  That  the  childish 
attachment  formed  for  him  was  growing  with  her  growth,  and 
maturing  with  her  strength,  I  only  guessed.  Max  had  not  written 
to  her  since  his  letter  was  intercepted  in  our  old  school-days.  I 
knew  she  did  not  consider  it  an  engagement.  But  she  never  told 
me  what  was  passing  in  her  thoughts.  I  saw  that  she  was  grow 
ing  pale,  and  that  her  step  was  less  elastic — a  sure  criterion  of  the 
spirit's  change — but  she  said  nothing  to  me  of  any  care  or  secret 
grief,  and  I  did  not  like  to  ask  her.  We  took  no  sweet  counsel 
together  now,  her  secret  sundered  us.  She  was  afraid,  perhaps, 
that  I  should  read  her  heart,  afraid  to  read  my  thoughts,  and 
leani  that  my  fears  about  Max  gave  countenance  to  her  anxiety. 
A  true  woman's  conduct  is  made  up  of  apparent  inconsistencies. 
Though  with  me  she  was  reserved  and  self-absorbed  to  hide  her 
secret,  with  others  she  became  from  the  same  cause  sociable  and 
friendly.  She  found  it  easier  to  talk  to  rt  rangers  than  to  her 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  91 

nearest  friend.  She  grew  fond  of  going  out,  and  visiting  about 
the  neighborhood,  and  often  the  horses  would  be  put  to  the  car 
riage,  and  we  would  be  driven  fifteen  miles  over  bad  roads  at 
night,  that  Veronica  might  have  the  relief  of  talking  common 
places  with  the  neighboring  county  ladies.  She  grew  weary  at 
home  of  the  effort  of  concealment,  and  was  thankful  to  take  her 
part  in  their  mild  chat,  which  drew  off  her  thoughts  from  her 
home  griefs  without  any  effort  of  her  own.  She  became  sud 
denly  busy  with  parish  clubs  and  village  duties,  under  the  patron 
age  of  good  Miss  Alicia  Dwyer.  The  Rector  no  longer  found 
her  sitting  on  his  library  steps,  reading  out  of  his  biggest  tomes, 
but  she  went  daily  to  the  Rectory,  and  held  little  committees,  and 
made  school  tippets  for  the  children  out  of  cotton  and  list,  and 
listened  gladly  to  the  village  stories  and  kind  common-place 
moralities  of  Miss  Alicia.  We  never  now  heard  her  gay  laugh — 
as  glad  as  marriage  chimes,  ring  clear  aloSig  the  passages — but 
her  face,  except  Avlien  she  was  unobserved,  was  always  lighted  by 
a  quiet  smile. 

In  happier  times  she  had  loved  to  be  alone,  and  you  might 
often  hear  her 

"  Singing  to  herself  like  bird  or  bee," 

among  the  flowers  in  the  garden — but  now  in  her  unoccupied 
moments  she  was  always  beside  cousin  Lomax  ;  and  the  old  man 
who  was  getting  infirm,  grew  very  tender  to  her.  He  liked  to 
see  her  pretty  face,  and  hear  her  soft  sweet  Southern  voice,  and 
probably  had  never  been  more  proud  and  happy  in  the  best  days 
of  his  youth,  than  when  she  sat  by  his  arm-chair  and  read  aloud 
his  daily  paper.  She  knew  where  to  pick  out  such  parts  as  he 
would  like.  She  knew  how  to  modulate  her  voice,  so  as  to  suit 
his  drowsy  moments,  and  emphasized  the  passages  she  knew  he 


92  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

•wished  to  hear.  I  never  knew  her  lose  her  self-command  but 
once,  and  that  was  when  he  laid  his  hand  upon  her  arm  one 
night,  and  said,  "  God  bless  you,  my  sweet  child.  You  are  a 
comfort  to  me."  She  wrote  for  him,  she  kept  all  his  accounts 
— he  referred  to  her  when  he  was  at  a  loss — he  leaned  upon 
her  arm  as  he  gave  his  orders  to  the  gardener,  and  tears,  poor 
child,  were  smothered  in  her  heart,  while  smiles  were  upon  her 
lips.  She  was  trying  to  bear  everybody's  burden,  and  nobody 
ever  guessed  that  she  was  already  overladen  with  her  own. 

She  seldom  set  foot  into  the  woods,  except  when  she  accom 
panied  her  uncle.  Day  after  day  the  boy  who  went  to  the  next 
post-town,  was  told  to  exercise  her  pony.  The  rope  was  rotting 
of  the  swing  in  the  big  walnut  tree  (put  up  by  Max),  where 
Mammy  had  been  used  to  seek  her  "  chile"  whenever  she  was 
missed,  and  where  nine  times  out  of  ten  she  found  her,  -with  the 
tip  of  one  small  foot  touching  the  moss,  swaying  slowly  with  the 
motion  of  the  branch,  dreaming  her  summer  day-dreams  and 
reading  poetry. 

Except  the  newspapers,  pamphlets,  or  books  of  travels  read  to 
cousin  Lomax,  she  never  opened  a  book  now.  She  had  no 
appetite  for  reading.  Over  every  pleasant  volume  in  the  house, 
her  curls  had  touched  the  cheek  of  Max.  It  was  when  speaking 
of  the  book  they  read  together,  that  Paulo  and  Francesca  told 
the  poet : 

"  Nessun  maggior  dolor 
Che  ricordarsi  del  tempo  felice 
Nella  miserin." 

There  was  another  change  in  her.  Formerly,  she  had  loved  the 
early  morning  hours,  as  happy  children  always  do,  or  happy 
summer  birds ;  now  she  was  always  late.  When  she  made  her 
appearance  in  the  household,  she  was  dressed  for  the  day,  the 


OUR      COUSIN      VEROXICA.  93 

mask  was  fastened  firmly  on  till  night.  No  wonder  she  put  off 
as  long  as  possible  the  hour  of  resuming  it.  I  Avent  into  her 
room  one  morning  after  she  left  it,  and  found  upon  her  bed 
the  Sacred  Pages  blistered  with  her  tears. 

They  got  up  a  Race  Ball  at  Doncaster,  and  sent  us  tickets. 
"  Let  us  go,  Uncle,"  said  Veronica,  eagerly.  Alas !  with  the 
heart-ache,  we  may  be  ever  so  restless,  but  little  or  no  relief  will 
come  from  change.  If  Veronica  had  proposed  a  trip  to  Paris  or 
the  Sandwich  Islands,  I  believe  that  cousin  Lomax  would  have 
essayed  to  start,  and  have  drawn  on  his  boot  over  his  gouty  toe. 
He  performed  this  act  of  martyrdom  at  her  bidding  on  the  ball 
night,  dressing  at  the  inn  where  the  assembly  took  place,  and 
escorting  Veronica,  Miss  Alicia,  and  myself,  into  the  dingy  ball 
room. 

Veronica  was  tall,  and  all  her  movements  were  composed  and 
stately.  At  school,  or  when  she  danced  with  Max  to  Miss 
Alicia's  old  Scotch  tunes  on  the  old  piano,  her  curls  had  danced  as 
gaily  as  her  feet;  now  she  swept  through  each  quadrille  with 
elegance,  but  little  animation.  She  looked  extraordinarily  hand 
some,  and  gave  every  one  her  smile,  so  that  ten  minutes  after  she 
appeared,  she  was  the  reigning  favorite.  I  heard  comments,  often 
couched  in  sporting  terms,  upon  her  beauty,  and  her  "  points," 
among  the  gentlemen. 

As  the  evening  went  on,  her  spirits  really  rose — there  was  a 
gleam  of  her  natural  gaiety,  for  her  heart  had  connected  Max 
with  her  triumph  by  the  thought  that  she  was  glad  the  woman 
whom  she  hoped  he  loved  should  be  admired  by  other  people. 
She  was  dancing  with  more  animation,  and  the  expression  of  her 
face  was  less  fixed  than  it  had  been  of  late.  Her  smiles  were 
genuine  and  more  flitting.  Suddenly,  she  caught  sight  of  cousin 
Lomax,  who  looked  bored  to  death ;  indeed,  his  gouty  foot  in  the 


94  OUR      C  0  U  S  I  X      VERONICA. 

dress-boot  was  beginning  to  pain  him.  I  saw  her  go  up  to  him 
at  the  close  of  the  quadrille,  and  ofi'er  him  her  arm,  and  a 
moment  after  every  eye  was  turned  on  them  as  they  came  down 
the  room.  Youth  and  decrepitude — beauty  sustaining  age ! 
Not  any  one  who  was  present  at  that  ball,  but  must  remember 
them. 

They  carne  slowly,  as  I  said,  down  the  middle  of  the  ball-room. 
She  was  the  taller  of  the  two.  Her  dress  was  India  muslin, 
made  high  in  the  neck — that  was  her  fancy.  A  handsome  coral 
ornament  fastened  it  at  the  throat.  She  wore  a  coral  bracelet, 
and  coral  had  been  twined  in  the  blonde  tresses  of  her  sunny  hair. 
It  was  the  simplest  dress  in  the  room,  but  she  looked  like  a 
queen  in  it  and  wore  it  regally. 

A  certain  Captain  Collinson,  who  had  just  been  introduced  to 
me,  was  standing  by  me.  His  invitation  to  dance  was  broken 
short  by  the  general  attention  attracted  to  this  beautiful  vision. 
Nobody  could  have  seen  her  with  the  soft  light  in  her  eyes,  the 
bright  flush  upon  her  cheeks,  guarding  the  old  man  who  leant 
upon  her — the  clinging  ivy  that  supports  the  wall — the  prop  of 
his  decaying  strength,  and  not  have  felt  there  was  a  holy  beauty, 
rarely  seen  in  ball-rooms,  in  the  vision. 

I  declined  the  proposal  to  dance,  and  joined  her  and  cousin 
Lomax.  I  took  the  arm  of  Miss  Alicia,  and  Captain  Collinson 
accompanied  us  into  the  cloak-room.  Veronica  soon  found  her 
scarlet  and  white  cloak  and  hood,  which  were  conspicuous ;  but 
cousin  Lomax  bad  gone  for  the  carriage  before  I  lighted  on  my 
wrappings.  As  I  was  tying  them  on,  Captain  Collinson  f-aid, 
"  I  believe  I  am  acquainted  with  a  brother  of  yours,  Miss  Mande- 
ville.  I  have  been  trying  to  get  near  you  all  the  evening,  to  ask 
you  to  dance.  Have  you  heard  of  him  since  I  left  him  at  Castle 
Maclntyre  ?" 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  95 

"  It  is  not  my  brother,"  said  I.  "  My  only  brother,  Max,  is  in 
Ireland,  at  the  depot  of  the  189th  regiment." 

"  I  mean  Lieut.  Lomax  Mandeville,  of  the  189th.  I  left  him 
in  Scotland  last  week  on  leave,  staying  with  Lord  de  Brousse  at 
Castle  Maclntyre.  I  had  no  idea  I  should  meet  his  family  in  this 
place,  or  I  should  have  asked  him  to  honor  me  with  some  mes 
sage  or  letter." 

"  Max  in  Scotland !"  cried  I.  "  What  could  have  taken  him 
to  Scotland  ?  If  he  is  on  leave,  he  ought  to  be  at  Castleton." 

"  You  must  not  be  too  hard  on  him,  Miss  Mandeville,  there 
are  great  attractions  at  Castle  Maclntyre.  Young  gentlemen 
too  often  show  bad  taste  by  forsaking  the  society  of  their  sisters 
for  that  of  ladies  much  less  charming.  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre 
is  certainly  a  splendid  woman,  and  my  friend  Mandeville,  an 
ardent  adorer." 

I  felt  myself  growing  pale.  The  blood  seemed  curdling  at  my 
heart.  I  had  not  presence  of  mind  to  stop  his  foolish  talk. 
I  dared  not  look  at  Veronica.  She  saw  my  agitation,  and 
solicitious  to  cover  it,  yet  hear  the  worst,  she  mastered  her  own 
feelings.  Her  voice  Avas  almost  steady  as  she  asked,  "  How  long 
has  Mr.  Mandeville  known  Lady  Ellen  ?" 

"  Only  a  few  weeks,  but  he  fell  over  head  and  ears  in  love 
with  her  at  once,"  was  the  reply. 

"Is  she  handsome,"  said  Veronica,  quickly.  "Brunette  or 
blonde  ?" 

"  She  is  very  striking.  A  tall,  dark  beauty,  with  a  high  com 
plexion.  Older  than  he  is,  I  should  say.  One  of  your  dashing 
sort.  She  leads  Mandeville  a  very  pretty  love  chase." 

I  looked  up  at  Veronica.  There  was  a  burning  spot  of  color 
in  each  cheek.  Her  eyes  were  very  bright.  The  muscles  of 
her  face  were  very  fixed,  and  the  dilation  of  her  nostrils  gave  her 


96  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

an  expression  almost  fierce  and  very  eager.  Her  head  was 
thrown  a  little  back,  and  her  -whole  air  was  proud.  She  stood 
drawing  the  tassels  of  her  cloak  nervously  through  her  fingers. 

"  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre  favors  his  suit  ?  did  you  say  she  favors 
him  ?" 

The  Captain,  who  saw  nothing  beyond  his  own  share  of  what 
was  going  on,  replied  readily :  "  Lady  Ellen  is  so  experienced  a 
flirt,  that  nobody  can  tell.  But  I  told  Mandeville  I  thought  he 
had  a  fair  chance  to  go  in  and  win.  He  has  large  expectations, 
at  least  so  we  have  understood.  This  will  further  his  suit  with 
Lord  de  Brousse,  and  I  dare  say  will  be  no  disadvantage  in 
the  eyes  of  the  young  lady." 

At  this  moment,  cousin  Lomax,  who  had  been  calling  up  the 
carriage,  came  back  to  where  we  stood.  He  heard  what  the 
young  man  said,  and  looked  him  in  the  face.  The  impudent 
young  fellow  whose  tongue  had  been  loosened  by  the  wine-cup, 
suddenly  perceived  his  error,  and  guessed  at  once  whence  the 
expectations  in  question  Avere  derived. 

"  I I "  he  stammered,  "  have  only  been  repeating 

gossip,  sir." 

"  And  gossip,"  said  cousin  Lomax,  "  which  I  have  reason  to 
know,  sir,  is  quite  false.  Come,  Veronica." 

The  luckless  young  tell-tale  gave  me  his  arm,  and  we  followed. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  he,  "  have  I  blabbed  like  a  fool,  anything  to 
injure  your  brother  with  the  old  gentleman  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  I ;  "  I  think  we  had  better  know  it  all. 
Are  you  sure  of  what  you  told  me  ?" 

"Molly,  have  the  goodness  to  make  haste,"  said  cousin  Lomax 
in  a  sharp,  quick  voice.  "  Shut  up  the  door,  James,  and  tell  the 
fellows  to  drive  on  quickly." 

God  knows  what  thoughts  were  tossing,  raging,  surging  in 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  97 

poor  Vera's  breast.  I  had  enough  to  do  to  control  my  own.  I 
was  first  conscious  of  insane  purposes  to  strangle  Miss  Alicia, 
who  went  ou  chirping  about  the  ball.  "  Don't*  you  think  so,  my 
dear  ?"  to  Veronica.  "  Mr.  Lomax,  won't  you  put  up  your  lame 
foot  upon  this  seat  ?"  "  Mary,  my  dear,  it  was  a  pity  we  came 
away  before  your  dance  with  Captain  Collinson.  Is  he  staying 
at  Vere  Park  ?  I  knew  his  poor  mother  a  great  many  years 
ago." 

Cousin  Lomax  growled  at  her.  I  sat  and  thought  that  I  should 
like  to  choke  her  ;  and  I  hope  Veronica  was  too  pre-occupied  to 
hear  her.  At  any  rate,  Miss  Alicia  was  neither  checked  nor 
offended.  She  went  on  talking  without  any  answer. 

It  came  on  to  rain.  James  and  the  postillions  had  taken  a 
little  too  much  drink.  We  stuck  fast  in  a  rut  in  a  cross-road. 
Cousin  Lomax  threw  open  the  carriage  door  and  jumped  out, 
with  his  thin  boots  and  his  incipient  gout,  into  the  cold.  His 
Virginian  temper  was  excited.  He  levelled  imprecations  at  the  ser 
vants — demanded  how  they  dared  to  drive  in  that  way  when  they 
were  driving  ladies — pxit  his  own  shoulder  to  the  Avheel,  started 
the  carriage  by  the  force  of  his  excitement — jumped  back  into 
his  place  and  shut  the  door  with  a  bang  which  broke  the  handle, 
and  he  had  to  hold  it  all  the  rest  of  the  way  home. 

Day  broke  just  as  we  were  entering  the  grounds  at  Castleton. 
As  its  first  rays  fell  upon  my  cousin's  face,  I  saw  she  had  been 
sitting  smiling  in  the  dark,  with  the  fixed  look  she  had  worn 
when  listening  in  the  cloak-room.  The  coral  colored  lining  of 
her  hood  which  had  been  becoming  to  her  at  night,  now  made 
her  face  look  ghastly.  A  more  miserable  set  than  we  were 
never  got  out  of  a  carriage  by  daylight,  limp,  draggled,  and  dis 
satisfied,  on  their  return  from  a  ball. 


98  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA 


CHAPTER     IX. 

"  There  is  a  change — and  I  am  poor ; 
Your  love  hath  been,  nor  long  ago, 
A  fountain  at  my  fond  heart's  door, 
Whose  only  business  was  to  flow — 
And  flow  it  did,  not  taking  heed 
Of  its  own  bounty  or  my  need." 

WORD3WORTU  . 

REFRESHMENTS  had  been  spread  out  for  us,  and  Miss  Alicia 
fancied  she  was  hungry.  We  went  with  her  into  the  dining- 
room.  She  sat  down  at  the  table,  begging  us  to  eat,  but  I  had  a 
choking  in  my  throat,  as  if  it  would  be  impossible  ever  to  eat 
again.  Veronica  stood  over  the  fire.  It  was  the  chilly  hour 
after  dawn,  and  her  dress  was  very  wet  from  rain,  which  had 
found  its  way  into  the  carriage.  I  poured  out  a  glass  of  wine, 
and  gave  it  to  her.  She  tried  to  drink  it,  but  the  rising  tears 
choked  her,  and  she  sat  it  down.  She  commanded  herself  suffi 
ciently,  however,  to  say  with  a  steady  voice,  "  I  am  very  tired.  I 
think  I  shall  go  to  bed.  Good  night.  Forgive  me  for  leaving 
you,  Miss  Alicia." 

She  took  a  candle  from  the  table,  and  left  the  room.  Cousin 
Lomax  looked  at  Miss  Alicia  (eating  sardines)  with  great  disgust, 
and  moved  away,  desiring  me,  before  I  went  to  bed,  to  come  into 
his  library. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  99 

We  were  all  bent  on  deceiving  Miss  Alicia,  and  yet  in  the 
midst  of  our  wretchedness,  irritation  at  her  placid  unconscious 
ness  was  the  most  prominent  feeling  of  us  all.  When  she  had 
finished  her  supper  she  wiped  her  mouth  and  got  up  from  table, 
but  still  she  seemed  disposed  to  chat  about  the  ball. 

I  had  no  patience  left  for  further  conversation,  and  telling  her 
abruptly  that  cousin  Lomax  wanted  me  in  the  library,  I  broke 
up  the  half  hour  of  gossip  Avhich  was  the  poor  old  lady's 
delight,  and  hurried  her  unwillingly  to  her  own  chamber. 

I  found  cousin  Lomax  suffering  agonies  from  his  attack  of 
gout.  He  had  called  up  the  housekeeper,  who  wras  ministering 
to  him,  but  he  sent  her  away  when  I  came  in,  and  told  me  to 
stand  before  him,  and  repeat,  word  for  word,  "  what  that  fool 
had  been  saying."  He  had  a  bundle  of  Max's  letters  in  his 
hand,  and  had  been  looking  over  those  of  latest  date,  while  his 
foot  was  swathed  by  Mrs.  Mayhew.  I  told  him,  word  for  word, 
what  Captain  Collinson  had  said.  "  And  you,"  said  he,  looking 
me  in  the  face,  "  have  you  heard  a  word  from  your  brother 
about  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre  2" 

"  No  sir,  Max  writes  so  seldom  " 

"  Yes — hang  it,"  broke  out  cousin  Lomax.  "  And  I  write  so 
seldom :  I  can't  do  it.  It  isn't  in  me.  I  never  knew  a  letter- 
writing  Virginian.  And  it's  God's  providence  they  don't  write, 
for  I  never  got  a  letter  from  Virginia  in  my  life  that  didn't  tell 
me  something  disagreeable.  And  so  your  brother  makes  so  sure 
of  Castleton  as  to  bid  it  for  a  wife  ?  He  had  better  remember 
that  I  must  provide  for  my  niece,  and  that  I  will  leave  no 
unmarried  woman  my  Virginian  property." 

"  Cousin  Lomax,"  I  said,  "  I  don't  think  that  what  escaped 
Captain  Collinson  ought  to  prejudice  you  against  Max.  What 
he  repeated  was  mere  gossip.  I  know  Max  is  quite  incapable 


100  OUR      COUSIN      V  E  U  O  X  I  0  A  . 

of  speculating  upon  your  promise  about  Castle-ton.  Max  was 
never  mercenary,  and  has  always  showed  you  affectionate  conside 
ration." 

A  twinge  of  pain  convulsed  cousin  Lomax's  face ;  when  it  had 
passed,  he  answered  bitterly,  "  I  am  not  speaking  of  any  hopes 
he  may  have  built  on  his  expectation  of  my  property.  Old  fel 
lows  must  expect  to  have  young  ones  looking  out  after  their  own 
chances.  I  am  not  quarrelling  with  human  nature.  But  lie  had 
better  make  quite  sure  that  I  shall  leave  him  this  estate  before 
he  buys  a  wife  with  it.  You  will  write  to-morrow,  and  tell  him 
this,  Moll  Mancleville.  I  shall  write  the  same  thing  to  another 
quarter.  You  will  tell  him  that  his  succssion  to  the  property 
depends  on  my  good  will — that'I  have  another  child  of  my  adop 
tion  to  provide  for — nearer  to  me  in  blood — a  girl  who  has  not 
her  rival  for  goodness  or  for  beauty — that  she  has  twined  herself 
about  my  rough  old  heart,  and  I  won't  have  him  make  her 
unhappy.  I  wished  to  see  them  married,  and  to  leave  my  pro 
perty  to  both  of  them,  but  if  he  plays  her  false,  be  hanged  if  he 
shall  have  one  shilling.  I  shall  write  your  to  father  to  that 
effect,  and  you  may  tell  him  so." 

"  We  do  not  know  this  news  is  true,  sir — and  it  was  such  a 

childish  affair  between  Veronica  and  Max,  that  perhaps  " I 

hesitated,  for  I  knew  my  supposition  could  be  hardly  true,  "per 
haps  Veronica  may  not  care  for  him." 

"Ila!"  said  cousin  Lomax,  "do  you  know  it  to  be  so?" 

"No  sir,  I  know  nothing.  Veronica  never  speaks  to  me  of 
Max.  But  I  know  she  does  not  consider  herself  engaged  to  him." 

The  old  man  mused  a  moment,  and  then  said,  striking  his 
hand  upon  the  arm  of  his  chair,  "  I  have  set  my  heart  upon  that 
match.  But  I  would  not  make  her  unhappy.  She  must  judge 
him  for  herself.  Accept  him  or  reject  him  as  she  likes — but  he 


OUK      COUSIN      VERONICA.  101 

will  not  have  Castleton  except  he  wins  her  for  his  wife.  Tell 
him  that  from  me." 

I  bid  him  good  night.  Ho  called  me  back  to  get  him  the 
Peerage,  and  turn  to  the  De  Brousse  family.  She  was  two  years 
older  than  Max,  this  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre. 

The  feeble  rays  of  a  November  sun  were  struggling  in  at  the 
East  windows,  when  I  went  up  to  my  chamber.  As  I  passed 
that  of  Veronica,  her  door  softly  opened.  She  came  out  still  in 
her  ball-dress — still  in  her  cloak  and  hood.  Her  floating  robes 
and  satin  feet  contrasted  strangely  with  her  face.  She  had  been 
weeping  bitterly. 

"  Mary,"  said  she,  coming  out  upon  the  landing,  and  taking  me 
by  the  arm,  "  you  have  been  with  cousin  Lomax.  Is  he  angry 
with  Max  ?  What  did  he  say  to  you  ? " 

"  Compose  yourself,  dear  Vera.  He  did  not  tell  me  he  was 
angry  with  Max.  He  is  going  to  write  to  him  and  ascertain 
if  this  report  be  true." 

"  And  sacrifice  me,"  said  Veronica  passionately. 

"  How  sacrifice  you,  Vera  ? " 

"  Sacrifice  my  pride,"  she  said,  "  by  letting  him  suppose  I  think 
of  his  old  childish  fancy.  Mary,  don't  you  know  if  lie  remem 
bered  it  he  would  have  been  here  long  aov>  ?  A  small  excuse 

o       o 

has  mighty  weight  unless  it  is  balanced  by  the  inclination.  A 
woman  needs  no  better  test  of  the  feelings  entertained  for  her. 
I  have  known  it — I  have  known,  long  ago,  that  Max  could  have 

got  leave  of  absence  if if  he  had  wanted  to  see  his  family. 

He  cared  more  for  his  hunting  in  Ireland — more  for  his  friends 
in  the  mess-room — more  even  for  the  novelty  of  his  new  military 
life — more  for  the  pleasure-trip  he  took  to  the  Lakes  of  Killar- 
ney.  Max  is  not  to  be  blamed  for  this.  Max,  as  I  have  lately 
felt,  is  very  young.  He  needed,  perhaps,  to  have  his  manhood 


102  OUR      COUSIN      V  E  II  O  X  I  C  A  . 

wakened  into  life  by  some  strong  feeling  —  such  a  feeling  as  he 
never  had  for  me,  and  has  towards  Lady  Ellen.  All  that  has 
ever  passed  between  us  was  a  foolish,  childish  dream,  entered  into 
to  please  dear  old  Mammy.  I  cannot  be  expected  to  consider  it 
anything  else.  lie  will  marry  Lady  Ellen,  and  bring  her  here  to 
Castleton,  and  I  —  I  had  better  go  away.  After  what  has  passed 
she  will  not  like  to  see  me." 

"  Dear  Vera,  you  deceive  yourself.  We  shall  have  no  Lady 
Ellen  here,  I  think.  You  must  hear  what  Max  can  say.  Oh  ! 
Vera,  Vera,  do  not  cry.  Pray  do  not  cry  so  bitterly." 

The  tears  were  streaming  down  her  face,  but  its  expression  did 
not  vary.  I  think  she  was  scarcely  conscious  of  her  tears  till  I 
said  this,  and  yet  they  were  falling  fast,  like  heavy  rain,  over  her 
cloak  and  drapery.  But  as  I  spoke  she  started  and  looked  up, 


"And  her  foot  trod  in  •vyith  pride, 
Her  own  tears  in  the  floor  beside." 

Sho  turned  from  me  without  a  word,  and  was  reenter- 
ing  her  chamber  when  the  string  of  her  coral  bracelet  (her  coral 
had  been  a  present  from  Max)  snapped  from  the  force  with 
which  she  dragged  it  from  its  fastenings. 

"Oh!  my  coral  !"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  voice  of  anguish;  but 
she  did  not  stoop  to  gather  up  the  beads.  .  She  went  into  her 
chamber  and  turned  the  key  in  the  door. 

I  knocked  softly  and  called  her  "  Vera  !  dearest  Vera  !''  But 
there  was  no  sound  in  the  closed  chamber. 

"  Oh  1  Vera  let  me  in  ;  I  am  almost  as  unhappy  as  you."  She 
would  not  accept  my  sympathy.  "  Veronica  !  Veronica  !"  I 
pleaded  for  half  an  hour  kneeling  at  the  door,  nor  was  there  oven 
a  sob  to  break  the  silence. 

"  Goodness  alive  !  Miss  Mary—  whatever  are  you  doing  on 
your  knees  in  that  dress  by  Miss  Veronica's  door?" 


OUR      COUSIN      V  E  K  O  X  I  C  A  .  103 

It  was  the  voice  of  the  housekeeper  going  to  the  kitchen  en 
camisole  to  heat  hot  water  and  give  her  master  an  early  cup 
of  tea. 

I  got  up  from  my  knees.  "  I  wanted  my  dress  unfastened, 
Mrs.  Mayhew  and  Miss  Veronica  has  gone  to  bed,  and  I  can't 
open  the  door." 

"  Well !  come  to  your  own  room  and  I'll  undress  you.  Mercy 
upon  us,  you  seem  all  chills  and  fevers,  and  you  are  all  damp, 
and  cold,  and  wet.  Miss  Veronica  has  gone  to  bed,  and  to  sleep. 
She's  a  great  deal  sensibler,  Miss  Mary,  than  you."  So  spake 
the  old  housekeeper,  privileged  to  speak  her  mind. 

She  put  me  to  bed,  for  I  was  really  wet  and  damp,  and  all  my 
limbs  were  stiff  when  I  rose  up  in  my  pink  crape  dress  from  the 
floor. 

"  Mrs.  Mayhew,"  said  I,  "  please  don't  say  anything  about  my 
being  up  all  night  to  cousin  Lomax." 

"  Well,  I  won't,"  said  she,  "  but  I  never  did  see  such  a  set  to 
go  to  balls,  and  so  I  was  telling  my  master." 

I  could  not  sleep.  I  had  shut  out  the  day-light  and  darkened 
my  chamber,  but  I  could  not  shut  out  a  thousand  wakeful 
thoughts.  What  was  I  to  write  to  Max  ?  If  he  were  really  in 
love  with  Lady  Ellen,  would  he  listen  to  anything  that  I  would 
say  either  from  myself  or  cousin  Lomax  ? 

And  what  a  disappointment  it  would  bo  at  home.  What  a 
change  in  the  prospects  of  Max  if  he  lost  the  inheritance  of 
Castleton. 

We  had  a  growing  family  of  half  brothers  and  sisters,  and  to 
have  Max  with  his  expensive  tastes  and  breeding  thrown  back 
on  our  small  means  would  be  a  family  misfortune.  As  Max 
grew  up  our  father  had  congratulated  himself  more  and  more  that 
his  future  was  provided  for.  I  knew  that  I  should  always  have  a 


104  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

home  with  Max,  and  the  future  had  not  troubled  me  ;  but  if 
Max  was  disinherited  what  was  to  become  of  me  .' 

Would  Veronica  have  Castleton  ?  I  knew  better  now  than 
ever  that  she  cared  for  Max.  Did  people  ever  become  happy 
again  when  they  had  loved  once  ?  Novels  said  not.  "Would  she 
die  year  by  year  of  some  disease,  called  by  another  name,  but  in 
fact  a  broken  heart  ?  What  would  become  of  Veronica  ' 

Oh  !  why  had  cruel  Love  brought  this  trouble  on  all  of  us  ? 
Why  had  he  shot  that  burning  arrow  into  the  heart  of  Max  from 
the  bright  eyes  of  Lady  Ellen  Madntyre  ? 

I  pictured  her  glowing  with  health,  and  beautiful,  and  bright, 
but  she  did  not  shine  in  my  imagination  with  a  soft  home 
radiance ;  the  light  about  her  was  the  garish  brilliancy  of  ball 
lamps ;  there  was  no  halo  round  her  head  of  "  dim  religious 
light,"  but  the  flash  of  a  diamonded  coronet,  and  eyes  that  glittered 
bright  as  arctic  stars.  Oh  !  how  could  Max  be  led  away  by  her 
from  his  allegiance  to  Veronica  ? 

I  had  written  to  Max  very  rarely  of  late.  Letters  are  links  in 
the  soft  chain  which  binds  the  wanderer  to  the  dear  home  circle. 
My  carelessness  had  snapped  those  precious  links,  and  had 
estranged  my  brother.  I  had  written  so  little  about  Veronica. 
I  lay  and  thought  by  what  means  I  should  win  his  confidence. 
God  forgive  me  for  my  fault !  Had  I  been  more  advanced 
in  the  experience  of  life — had  I  ever  loved  myself,  I  could  not 
have  resolved  to  do  the  thing  I  did.  I  could  not  have  betrayed 
for  any  purpose  the  secrets  of  Veronica. 

I  made  up  my  mind  to  tell  him  that  she  loved  him.  I  com 
posed  an  eloquent  appeal  to  his  compassion  and  generosity.  I 
implored  him  to  come  back,  and  to  make  good  our  hopes,  to 
remember  implied  promises,  to  be  careful  how  ho  offended 
cousin  Lomax,  who  might  revoke  his  promise  about  Castleton. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  105 

I  softened  cousin  Lomax's  message  so  as  to  give  it  as  little  of  the 
nature  of  a  threat  as  possible,  for  I  had  the  sense  to  know  that 
the  pride  of  Max  would  revolt  against  coercion.  At  break  of 
day  without  having  been  to  sleep,  I  started  from  my  feverish  bed 
and  wrote  my  letter. 

When  I  came  down  stairs,  Miss  Alicia  had  already  gone  home 
to  the  Rectory,  and  Veronica  was  not  in  the  breakfast  parlor. 
I  was  not  surprised,  for  I  expected  she  would  stay  in  her  room 
all  day.  I  had  not  dared  to  knock  at  her  door  and  ask  her  how 
she  felt,  as  I  came  down  stairs.  Great  was  my  surprise  when  the 
door  of  the  breakfast-room  opened  and  she  came  in  booted  and 
gauntleted,  holding  in  one  hand  the  folds  of  her  cloth  skirt,  and 
in  the  other  her  riding-whip.  Her  face  was  very  pale,  nor  was 
its  pallor  lessened  by  her  black  veil  and  beaver.  I  did  not  like 
to  ask  whither  she  was  bound,  and  tu miner  from  the  food  I 

'  O 

could  not  eat,  said  only,  "  Why  Veronica  !" 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  in  Doncaster  ?"  she  said,  "  I  shall 
pass  through  it  in  going  to  Vere  Park;  I  promised  Margaret  Vere 
to  ride  over  and  teach  Kate  a  new  stitch.  She  is  still  lame,  and 
lies  upon  her  sofa,  unable  to  put  her  foot  to  the  ground." 

"  But  Veronica  it  is  a  ride  of  four  and  twenty  miles,  and  it  is 
raining." 

"  Is  it  ?"  said  she,  looking  up  indifferently,  "  it  will  not  hurt  me 
I  suppose."  And  then  with  a  faint  laugh,  "  I  do  not  fear  a  little 
rain  ;  I  am  neither  salt  nor  sugar." 

"  Then  let  me  order  them  to  put  the  saddle  on  my  horse.  If 
the  day  is  fit  for  you,  Veronica,  it  is  for  me ;  I  owe  a  call  to  Mar 
garet  and  Kate  as  well  as  you." 

"  No — no,"  answered  Veronica  in  a  hurried  voice,  "  there  is 
not  time,  I  want  to  be  off."  And  going  to  the  door,  she  was  in 
the  saddle  in  a  moment.  She  gathered  up  her  reins — the 
5* 


100  O  U  II      COUSIX      V  E  II  0  N   I  C  A  . 

folds  of  her  riding-skirt  fell  into  their  place,  and  before  I  had 
time  to  think  how  strange  it  was,  she  was  gallopping  with  the 
groom  hard  after  her  down  the  oak  avenue. 

Of  late,  Veronica  had  rarely  mounted  the  beautiful  white  pony 
she  had  once  loved  as  tenderly  as  any  Arab  loves  his  horse  or 
child.  Every  ride  in  the  neighborhood  was  associated  with 
happy  days  with  Max,  and  when  she  gathered  up  her  reins  alone, 
or  the  groom  drew  the  drapery  around  her  feet,  she  missed  the 
touch  of  STax's  hand.  What  could  have  taken  her  on  so  slight 
an  excuse  a  ride  on  horseback  of  so  many  miles  I  Probably  the 
recollection  that  there  were  visitors  from  Scotland  at  Vere  Park, 
and  she  might  be  able  in  the  course  of  general  conversation  to 
draw  forth  some  further  description  of  Lady  Ellen  Macln- 
tyre. 

"  Dear  !  dear !"  said  Mrs.  Mayhew,  "  my  master  wants  to  know 
whatever  you  let  Miss  Veronica  go  out  for  such  a  day  as  this — and 
she  hasn't  said  a  word  about  the  dinner — and  there's  a  poor 
woman  to  speak  to  her  in  the  kitchen,  that  Miss  Alicia  sent — 
and  she  was  to  have  written  the  names  on  the  preserves  while 
Sally  put  them  in  the  closet.  They'll  get  spoilt  standing  on  the 
dresser  and  my  eyes  won't  let  me  write  them.  Oh  !  dear — dear, 
these  balls,  how  they  do  put  about  every  body  !'' 

"  I'll  write  the  preserves  for  you,  Mrs.  Mayhew/'  said  I. 

"Well,  Miss,"  rejoined  she,  "I'll  be  obliged  to  you,  and  you 
may  as  well  too  go  and  see  Mr.  Lomax,  he's  dressed  and  in  his 
library.  lie  would  get  up  all  I  could  say ;  he's  writing  at  his 
desk,  and  has  been  left  alone  this  weary  while,  which  isn't  one 
bit  like  Miss  Veronica." 

The  old  gentleman  was  sealing  a  letter  with  a  large  red  seal, 
stamped  with  the  anus  of  his  family.  I  asked  if  I  should  put  it 
in  the  post-bag,  but  he  laid  his  hand  over  it  ami*  told  me,  "No, 


O  U  K      C  O  U  S  I  X      VERONICA.  1Q7 

I  might  leave  him  to  himself,  and  send  Mrs.  Mayhew."  I  went 
back  into  the  housekeeper's  room,  sent  her  to  cousin  Lomax, 
called  a  young  girl  from  the  kitchen,  and  made  myself  busy  Avith 
the  pots  of  preserves. 

While  I  was  thus  occupied  Mrs.  Mayhew  came  in  and  sent  the 
girl  to  get  the  post-bag.  She  held  in  her  hand  the  letter  with  the 
red  seal,  which  she  laid  face  downwards  on  the  dresser.  Cousin 
Lomax  only  sealed  on  great  occasions  with  that  seal,  and  I  was 
curious  to  know  to  whom  he  had  addressed  this  letter. 

"  Master  bid  me  ask  you  if  you  had  a  letter  ready,  Miss  Mary ; 
he  wants  the  boy  to  go  to  town  at  once  and  bring  the  doctor." 

I  went  for  my  letter,  and  by  the  time  I  came  back  her  hands 
were  very  sticky  from  a  leak  in  a  pot  of  raspberry  jam. 

"  If  you'll  please,  Miss  Mandevil,  to  put  it  into  the  bag  your 
self,"  said  she. 

I  opened  the  bag  and  lying  with  its  face  turned  up  was  the 
letter  with  the  big  red  seal,  addressed  in  cousin  Lomax's  strong, 
stiff  hand  to  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre. 


108  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 


CHAPTER    X. 

Although  thou  must  never  be  mine, 

Although  even  hope  is  denied, 
'Tis  sweeter  for  thee  despairing, 

Than  aught  in  the  world  beside, 

Jessy !  BCRSS. 

THINGS  went  on  in  the  old  way.  The  calm  of  our  days  was  a 
mockery  to  the  tumult  of  our  thoughts.  We  had  no  new 
information  to  be  fashioned  into  fears  or  hopes,  but  our  imagi 
nations  continued  like  kaleidoscopes,  to  revolve  the  same  old 
thoughts  into  new  patterns.  If  Veronica  gained  any  information 
about  Lady  Ellen  at  Vere  Park,  she  did  not  communicate  it  to 
any  one  at  Castleton.  Cousin  Lomax  was  confined  to  his  room 
alarmingly  ill.  The  autumn  leaves  began  to  fall,  and  Castleton 
had  never  looked  more  dreary.  A  dry  wind  whistled  round  the 
solid  mason-work,  stole  in  through  the  chinks  and  crannies  of 
the  doors  and  window  frames,  and  wandered  up  and  down  the 
corridors,  moaning  to  get  out  and  play  among  the  leaves.  Tin- 
sap  shrank  down  into  the  roots,  leaving  the  dry  twigs  crackling 
on  the  upper  branches  of  the  trees,  whence  the  wind  snapped 
them  off  and  threw  them  wantonly  away.  He  ruffled  the  breast 
of  the  little  lake,  and  discomposed  the  plumage  of  its  stately 
swan;  he  broke  the  dry  flower-stalks  across  the  garden  paths, 
and  scattered  the  seeds  out  of  their  husks  and  carried  them  for 
miles  away,  tossing  them  before  him  like  his  foot-balls. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  109 

More  than  a  week  had  passed  away  since  the  ball-night,  when 
one  bitter  autumn  evening  about  sunset,  I  was  hastening  home 
alone  from  the  little  hamlet  that  joins  Castleton.  It  was  a  windy 
night,  the  clouds  were  hurrying  over  a  cold  blue  firmament,  and 
I  forced  my  way  with  difficulty  against  the  wind,  which  seemed 
to  have  left  off  its  mischief,  and  to  have  worked  itself  into  a  rage. 
At  a  turn  in  the  road  near  a  small  cottage  covered  with  green, 
damp  thatch,  I  paused  to  pick  my  way.  As  I  stopped,  I  heard 
the  footsteps  of  a  man,  but  as  it  Avas  beginning  to  grow  dark.  I 
did  not  wish  to  notice  him  or  look  behind  me. 

A  hand  was  laid  upon  my  shoulder.  I  started  and  turned 
round  with  a  half-scream.  Max  was  beside  me.  His  military 
figure  which,  since  I  had  seen  him  last,  had  filled  out  in  propor 
tion  to  his  manly  height — his  fashionable  dress  worn  with  a 
different  air  from  any  other  in  our  quiet  village,  took  my  atten 
tion  at  first  sight. 

"Oh!  Max — dear  Max!  How  glad  I  am-!  How  changed 
you  look,"  I  cried. 

But  when  I  raised  my  eyes  and  caught  the  expression  of  his 
face,  I  felt  the  change  was  greater  than  I  thought.  "  What  is 
the  matter,  Max  ?"  said  I,  finding  that  while  I  threw  my  arms 
about  him  and  pressed  my  lips  to  his  cold  cheek,  he  did  not 
return  the  loving  pressure. 

"  I  want  to  speak  to  you  alone,"  ho  said.  "  I  hardly  under 
stand  myself  what  the  matter  is.  Oh  !  Molly,"  and  he  kissed 
me  then,  "  I  do  believe  you  are  my  only  friend." 

"  Come  home,"  said  I,  "  and  we  will  talk.  But  it  is  impossible 
to  talk  in  this  wind." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  Castleton,"  said  Max,  "  I  shall  only  make 
matters  worse  by  being  seen  there.  I  came  here  to  talk  to  you 
and  am  fortunate  in  meeting  you.  I  never  want  to  see  cousin 


110  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Lomnx  again,  and  for  the  present  had  better  keep  out  of  the 
way  of  Veronica." 

"  Veronica  is  out  on  horseback,"  said  I,  "  and  cousin  Lomax  is 

111  in  his  own  room.     Oh !  Max,  come  up  to  the  house.     We 
have  both  much  to  say.     We  can  let  ourselves  into  the  great 
drawing-room,  and  have   a  quiet  talk.     But   I  cannot  talk   or 
even  think  in  this  abominable  wind." 

"  Are  you  sure  the  coast  is  clear  ?     That  Veronica  is  out  ?" 

"  Perfectly.  What  can  have  happened,  Max  ?"  But  Max 
drew  my  hand  through  his  arm  and  walked  on  at  a  quick  pace 
without  consideration  for  my  shorter  steps,  or  for  the  wind 
which  blew  my  skirts  about  my  feet,  and  my  hair  about  my  face, 
entangling  and  half  blinding  me. 

When  we  were  in  the  grounds,  Max  stopped  behind  in  a 
clump  of  arbor  vitce,  while  I  went  into  the  house  and  opened  the 
drawing-room  window.  I  beckoned  to  Max,  who,  looking  round 
and  seeing  he  was  unobserved,  crossed  the  lawn  and  joined  me. 
The  room  was  a  peculiar  one.  It  was  long,  low,  and  would  have 
been  narrow  had  it  not  been  for  a  very  large  bow-window  look 
ing  towards  the  west,  and  opposite  the  fire-place,  which  made  it 
a  fine,  airy,  handsome  room,  though  too  large  for  home  life,  and 
indeed,  it  was  only  used  as  a  state  apartment. 

Cousin  Lomax  had  the  American  fancy  for  green  blinds,  and 
was  always  for  excluding  sun-light,  and  finding  it  impossible  to 
fix  green  blinds  to  his  bow-window  on  the  outside,  lie  had  hit 
upon  the  plan  of  shutting  off  the  bow  when  the  afternoon  sun 
shone  into  it  from  the  west,  by  having  his  green  jalousies  inside 
the  room,  and  when  they  were  closed  across  the  bow,  it  formed 
by  itself  a  pleasant  little  apartment. 

The  room,  as  I  have  said,  was  not  used  except  for  company. 
The  green  blinds  were  generally  closed  to  save  the  carpet.  It 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  Ill 

never  occurred  to  me  that  Veronica  having  found  the  wind  too 
strong,  had  returned  early  from  her  ride,  and  that  she  was 
standing  in  the  bow  still  in  her  riding  dress,  watching  the  rapid 
changes  in  the  western  sky. 

Max  entered  by  the  south  window.  He  put  his  hat  upon  the 
marble  table,  and  flung  himself  into  a  chair.  I  went  up  to  him 
and  hung  about  him,  throwing  one  arm  round  his  neck,  ad 
miring  his  manly  grace,  his  curling  hair,  his  bright  keen  eyes. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  2"  said  I. 

"  What  is  it  ?  Oh  !  Molly,  I'm  the  most  unlucky  dog  alive  ! 
Isn't  it  enough  to  be  madly,  wildly,  hopelessly  in  love  with  the 
sweetest  woman  upon  earth — a  creature  whom  you  can't  even 
imagine,  living  here  as  you  do  in  this  hum-drum  place,  out  of 
the  world  of  fashion  and  society — but  I  must  have  her  insulted 
by  cousin  Lomax — But  I  must  have  my  love  laid  bare  to  her 
by  common  report  before  I  was  ready  to  declare  it  ?  Look  here, 
Molly — look  at  this.  It  is  the  letter  she  received  last  week.  It 
was  given  to  me^by  Lord  de  Brousse,  with  an  intimation  that  I 
had  better  leave  the  Castle.  I  will  never  forgive  cousin  Lomax. 
He  may  leave  Castleton  to  whom  he  will.  He  may  put  a  barrel 
of  gunpowder  in  the  cellar,  if  he  likes,  and  blow  it  up,  but  I 
wouldn't  forgive  him  such  an  insult,  to  such  a  woman,  not  if  he 
went  down  before  me  on  his  knees  in  this  veiy  room — and 
bribed  me  with  two  Castletons." 

Max  drew  a  crumpled  paper  from  his  breast.  I  recognized 
the  big  red  seal  of  cousin  Lornax's  letter.  It  was  written  pain 
fully.  I  could  see  in  the  cramped  hand  the  evidence  of  many 
a  gouty  twinge  as  he  was  engaged  in  its  composition. 

It  ran  as  follows : — 


112  OUR    COUSIN     VERONICA. 

"MAB.VM: 

"  The  expectations  of  my  kinsman  and  namesake,  Lieutenant 
Thomas  Lomax  Mandeville,  are  derived  solely  from  my  verbal  revocable 
promise  to  leave  him  Castleton.  That  estate,  even  if  it  were  entailed 
upon  him  as  my  heir,  would  hardly  meet  your  Ladyship's  pretensions  in 
the  partnership  of  matrimony.  As  it  is,  however,  I  beg  to  inform  you 
that  the  inheritance  is  contingent  on  his  marriage  with  a  beautiful  young 
girl — my  niece — his  second  cousin,  to  whom  he  has  been  long  engaged. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  remain, 
"Your  Ladyship's  obedient,  humble  servant, 
"Castleton.  "  THOS.  LOMAX." 

• 

Max  gnashed  his  keen  white  teeth  as  I,  with  a  scared  face, 
perused  the  letter,  and  snatched  it  roughly  from  my  hand  when 
I  had  done,  and  read  it  aloud  with  emphasis.  "  There,"  said  he 
"  imagine  yourself  insulted  by  getting  sucli  a  letter."  ''  And  you 
too,  Molly,"  he  resumed  after  a  pause,  "  that  you  should  write 
in  such  a  way !  You  seem  determined,  all  of  you,  to  drive  me 
mad.  I  am  not  engaged  to  cousin  Veronica.  Ask  her  to  tell 
you  the  truth.  If  she  thinks  I  am  bound  to  her  in  any  way,  I 
am  ready  to  meet  the  claim,  and  blow  my  brains  out  when  I've 
married  her.  She  is  a  good  little  thing — a  dear,  pretty  little 
tiling — but  Molly,  she  is  not  a  woman  like  that  other  one — a 
glnrious  woman,  whose  touch  thrills  through  your  nerves,  whose 
glance  shoots  straight  into  your  heart.  When  I  am  with  her, 
I  feel  at  once  bold  as  a  lion  and  bashful  as  a  girl.  I  never  felt 
so  with  Veronica.  She  was  a  dear,  kind,  sweet,  good  girl,  and  I 
loved  her — I  always  shall  love  her — or  always  should  if  you  had 
not  been  busying  yourself  in  making  her  the  rival  of  such  a 
woman  as  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre.  There  are  moments  now 
when  I  could  almost  hate  her  for  being  the  cause  of  my  trouble. 
Mollv,  I  could  have  waltzed  all  night  with  Veronica  without  any 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  113 

more  sensation  than  I  should  have  had  of  waltzing  with  you ;  but 
it's  intoxication  to  have  my  arm  round  Lady  Ellen's  waist — to 
breathe  the  perfume  of  her  breath  and  hair.  Oh  !  you  don't 
understand  these  things.  You  don't  know  how  true  that  line  of 
Byron's  is 

"  The  ocean  to  the  river  of  his  thoughts." 

"  I  think  of  nothing  else — I  dream  only  of  her — If  I  could  only 
be  a  knight  of  old,  and  calm  these  thrilling  nerves  by  rushing 
into  danger  for  her  sake !  But  this  living  in  a  fashionable  circle 

o  o 

in  a  shooting  box — this  following  her  round — this  picking  up 
her  gloves  and  standing  over  her  piano — this  being  jealous  of 
every  fool  on  whom  she  throws  away  a  smile,  was  half-killing 
me,  Molly.  Oh !  it  is  the  veriest  humiliation  in  these  days  for 
a  man  to  court  a  beautiful,  proud  woman.  He  wants  to  snatch 
her  from  the  crowd  and  bear  her  off — to  do  and  dare  for  her. 
And  he  has  to  cringe  and  wait  and  curb  his  jealousy  and 
passion,  and  take  her  frowns  and  wait  her  smiles.  He  must 
come  and  go,  and  fetch  and  carry — not  of  his  own  free  will — 
not  with  the  service  of  love — for  God  knows  in  that  service  no 
thing  would  be  humiliation,  but  just  to  give  her  triumph — just  to 
fulfill  the  conditions  that  society  imposes  upon  a  lover.  He  must 
be  something  other  than  he  is  to  convince  her  he  is  true,  it 
seems.  And  the  worst  of  it  is,  we  are  so  powerless.  No  man 
can  tell  how  he  is  going  to  be  treated  by  a  woman.  We  go  to 
work  in  the  dark.  Self-reliance  does  not  help  a  man.  Half  our 
little  ventures  are  stranded  before  we  get  them  out  of  port.  AVo 
want  to  do  something  to  please  you,  and  it  turns  out  the  re 
verse.  Your  one  sole  object  is  personal  triumph,  and  half  of 
you  never  accept  a  man  till  you  are  afraid  of  losing  him." 

"Max  !  Max!  this  is  not  true!"  said  I,  to  whom  this  kind  of 


114  O  U  H      COUSIN      V  K  It  O  N  I  C  A  . 

experience  was  quite  new.  "  I  know  this  is  not  true  !  It  can 
not  be !" 

"  It  •/*,  though,"  said  Max,  who  had  been  learning  in  another 
school.  "  I  don't  know  that  I  believe  in  any  woman's  love, 
except  you  conquer  her." 

"  Oh !  Max,  think  of  Veronica !" 

"  Aye — think  of  Veronica,"  said  he.  "  Is  foolish,  childish 
nonsense  of  that  kind  to  outweigh  all  iny  happiness  in  life  ? 
Am  I  to  be  as  I  am — a  miserable,  ruined  man  at  the  very  thres 
hold  of  my  life,  because  a  little  schoo'1-girl,  reading  sentimental 
books,  connects  me  with  her  heros  de  romans,  and  fancies  that 
she  loves  me  ?  Molly,  I  have  too  high  an  opinion  of  Veronica. 
She  must  know  that  the  follies  of  the  nursery  have  been  can 
celled  by  our  growth.  No  woman  of  right  feeling  and  good 
principle,  allows  herself  to  become  interested  in  any  man  until  he 
has  unequivocally  declared  his  affection  to  her.  I  am  ashamed 
a  sister  of  mine  should  think  otherwise.  It  comes  of  reading 
silly  books.  I  have  a  better  opinion  of  Veronica." 

"  Oh !  Max,  I  dare  not  say  you  are  not  right.  But  that  is  a 
man's  theory,  and  does  not  square  with  every  day's  experience — 
at  least  so  it  seems  to  me.  I  know  but  little  on  the  subject,  but 
I  do  not  think  the  wisest  and  best  women  always  wait  to  be 
quite  sure  of  that.  Else  why  is  there  in  the  world  so  much 
suffering  from  disappointed  affection  ?'' 

But  my  timid  little  opinion  was  swept  aside  by  the  increasing 
violence  of  Max. 

'•  Lady  Ellen,"  he  said,  "  thinks  so.  Lord  de  Brousse  brought 
me  this  letter,  saying  that  though  Lady  Ellen  was  at  a  loss  to 
conceive  what  had  given  rise  to  it,  she  had  consulted  him  as  to 
the  best  course  to  pursue,  and  he  advised  my  retiring  from  the 
Castle.  I  begged  for  a  few  moments'  interview  with  his  sister, 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  115 

only  to  say  good-bye.  After  some  difficulty  it  was  granted  me. 
I  saw  her  cold,  haughty,  changed,  and  barely  courteous.  Only 

the  night  before  she I I  thought 1  was  a 

fool — a  weak  conceited  fool,  to  fancy  she  could  ever  love  me  j 
I  told  her  that  if  the  devotion  of  my  life  could  blot  out  the  insult 
of  that  letter  she  might  feel  that  it  was  cancelled!  She  said,  in 
her  cold  way,  that  the  contents  of  the  note  were  of  more  conse 
quence  to  me  than  they  could  be  to  her.  I  poured  out  all  my 
passion,  and  she  heard  me  without  one  change  in  her  beautiful 
face,  and  said  when  I  had  done,  that  she  was  '  very  sorry  !'  '  Very 
sorry  !' — to  have  a  woman  '  very  sorry  !'  is  that  any  reward  for  a 
man's  devotion — for  the  adoration  of  his  whole  being — for  all  a 
man  can  give  a  woman — heart  and  mind  and  soul  ?  And  she 
looked  up  into  my  face  with  her  clear,  glorious  eyes  (it  seemed 
to  me  that  I  could  see  into  their  depths),  and  said,  "  She  had  not 
sought  anything  from  me — my  regard  for  her  had  been  spon 
taneous — I  need  not  blame  her  for  my  disappointment."  Then 
in  my  folly  I  said,  I  know  not  what.  And  she  rose  up  and  said, 
"  I  had  better  resume  my  allegiance  to  my  cousin."  And  I  pro 
tested  like  a  mad-man  that  I  never  had  loved — never  could 
love — any  other  woman.  I  tried  to  detain  her — but  she  left 
me,  saying  that  she  could  not  accept  my  statement  that  I  had 
never  loved  my  cousin.  '  No  woman,'  and  she  drew  herself  up 
proudly,  '  would  have  given  her  relations  reason  to  believe  she 
was  attached  to  any  man  who  had  not  sought  her  love  in  secret 
as  well  as  openly  admired  her.' " 

"  Oh  !  Max  '.—Max !" 

"I  am  not  going  to  carry  any  woman  a  false  faith.  I  should 
despise  myself,  could  I  be  bribed  by  Castleton,  or  any  other  bribe, 
to  give  up  the  woman  I  care  for,  and  marry  another.  It  is  per 
fectly  hopeless !  I  did  not  even  ask  her  to  marry  nio.  Of  course 


116  o  u  R    c  o  r  s  i  x     v  i;  it  o  \  i  c  A  . 

such  a  woman  could  never  follow  my  soldier's  fortunes.  Let 
Veronica  have  Castleton.  She  will  forget  this  childish  nonsense 
which  has  cost  me  everything  in  life — and  wiH  many  and 
be  happy  while  I  am  wearing  out  my  youth  in  India,  or 
the  West  Indies.  Oh !  Molly,  how  I  wish  there  was  a  war 
that  I  might  run  my  head  into  the  cannon's  mouth,  and  either 
win  such  fame  as  I  should  like  to  lay  at  Lady  Ellen's  feet,  or 
have  my  head  blown  off  and  be  done  with  this  cruel  life,  which 
young  as  I  am,  has  disappointed  me." 

"  Oh !  Max — how  can  you  talk  so !"  I  said,  bursting  into  tears. 

"  No !"  said  he,  pushing  me  from  him  gently,  "  do  not  kiss  me. 
I  can't  bear  it  at  this  moment.  It  seems  to  me  too  hard  that 
when  I  am  so  young,  all  my  life  should  be  ruined  by  this  weak 
fancy  of  Veronica's.  If  she  were  taken  up  to  town,  and  put  in 
the  way  of  seeing  men,  she  would  find  a  hundred  others  better 
worthy  of  her  attachment." 

His  face  was  covered  with  his  hands  and  his  voice  was  almost 
a  groan.  Suddenly  he  started  up.  "  I  did  not  come  to  Castle- 
ton  to  say  all  this.  These  are  wild  thoughts  which  day  and 
night  float  madly  through  my  brain  and  make  me  wild.  What 
I  came  for  was  to  see  you  and  know  the  truth.  Tell  cousin 
Lomax  that  I  thank  him  for  the  kindness  he  has  shown  me  person 
ally — that  I  cannot  sell  myself  for  Castleton — that  he  has  broken 
off  all  chance  of  my  marriage  with  Lady  Ellen — not  that  there 
was  a  chance,  but  I  could  not  help  hoping  that  there  might  be, 
you  know.  Tell  him  that  I  am  going  to  exchange  into  some 
regiment  on  foreign  sen-ice,  and  that  I  bid  him  good-bye.  I 
hope  he  may  provide  for  you,  and  leave  Castleton  by  way  of  con 
solation  to  Veronica." 

He  pressed  me  in  his  arms,  and  as  he  kissed  me,  my  face  was 
wet  with  the  drops  upon  his  eyelids.  "  Good-bye  little  Molly," 


OUH      COUSIN      VERONICA.  11Y 

lie  said.  "And  good-bye,  too — a  long-  good-bye,"  he  added 
looking  round  liim  with  an  earnest  gaze,  which  seemed  to  take 
in  all  the  place,  "  to  dear — dear — dear  old  Castleton."  He 
turned  towards  the  Avindow  through  which  he  had  come  in,  and 
I,  still  clinging  to  him  to  the  last,  followed  him  through  the 
dusk  into  the  shrubbery. 

When  I  came  back,  what  were  my  feelings  to  see  that  one 
side  of  the  green  jalousies  across  the  bow  stood  open,  and  that 
Veronica's  ivory  handled  riding-whip  was  lying  in  the  middle 


of  the  drawing-room  floor  ! 


118  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

I  stand  by  the  river  where  both  of  us  stood, 
And  there  is  but  one  shadow  to  darken  the  flood  ; 
And  the  path  leading  to  it  where  each  used  to  pass, 
Has  the  step  but  of  one  to  take  dew  from  the  grass. 

One  forlorn  since  that  day. 

Go !  be  sure  of  my  love — by  that  treason  forgiven  ; 
Of  my  prayers — by  the  blessings  they  win  thee  from  heaven  ; 
Of  my  grief— (guess  the  length  of  the  sword  by  the  sheath's) 
By  the  silence  oflife  more  pathetic  than  death's  ! 

Go — be  clear  of  that  day. 

MBS.  E.  B.  BROWSING. 

I  DID  not  see  Veronica  any  more  that  night.  She  sent  me 
word  that  she  was  tired  w||h  her  ride,  and  had  a  headache. 
One  half  the  headaches  in  the  world  would  be  returned  as  heart- 
jBches,  if  Congress  were  too  move  for  a  census  of  shams. 

I  cannot  tell  how  Vera  passed  the  night ;  it  must  have  been  a 
night  of  storm ;  thunder  and  rain  and  wind,  each  striving  for 
the  mastery — pride,  tenderness  and  desolation. 

The  next  day  she  came  down  to  breakfast  very  pale.  Her 
head  still  ached,  she  said,  but  she  was  going  to  be  very  busy. 
Five  hundred  things  had  accumulated  in  the  parish.  She 
thought  it  would  be  a  good  plan  if  she  visited  the  day-school 
twice  a  week  during  the  sewing  time,  and  read  aloud  some 
pleasant  story  to  the  children.  She  had  been  thinking  about  it 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  119 

during  the  night — and  was  going  to  consult  Dr.  Dwyer  and  Miss 
Alicia.  What  sort  of  book  would  answer,  did  I  think  ?  And 
by-the-way,  Avhen  she  was  in  the  Doctor's  library,  she  meant  to 
borrow  Gibbon.  Had  I  ever  read  the  "Decline  and  Fall?" 
Didn't  I  think  we  should  do  well  to  give  an  hour  every  day  to 
useful  historical  reading  ?  If  she  borrowed  the  book,  we  could 
begin  that  very  afternoon.  After  we  had  done  that,  we  might 
read  Hume,  but  Gibbon  would  last  us  some  time  as  a  piece  de 
resistance. 

Oh !  restless  heart !  When  brain  and  frame  are  weary  with 
the  heavy  cares  of  life,  wilt  thou  beat  less  wildly  for  the  increase 
of  thy  load  ?  Wilt  thou  be  happier  when  in  the  march  of  life, 
anxieties  and  occupations  are  treading  on  the  heels  of  each 
other?'  Try  it!  Every  sick  heart  has  done  so  before  thee. 
And  if  this  is  not  a  remedy,  at  least  we  know  not  where  amongst 
all  the  thorns  and  thistles  that  this  earth  brings  forth,  another 
may  be  found. 

So  Veronica  came  home  with  her  Koman  History,  and  we 
read  for  an  hour  about  the  condition  of  the  empire  in  the  days 
of  the  last  Romans.  I  am  certain  that  Veronica  left  off  with 
very  vague  impressions  on  the  subject,  for  when  I  asked  her  the 
next  day  which  of  the  Emperors  built  the  Scottish  wall,  she 
answered,  "Trajan."  A  reply  that  would  have  shocked  even 
Miss  Alicia,  who  professed  to  have  grounded  her  in  English 
History. 

For  tho  remainder  of  the  week  she  neglected  cousin  Lomax, 
confining  her  assiduities  to  the  school  children,  and  the  Decline 
of  the  Roman  Empire,  but  by  Sunday  she  had  a  fit  of  remorse, 
and  Monday  morning  found  her  in  his  chamber,  soothing  his 
pain  and  bearing  his  caprices.  I  had  written  to  Max  the  day 
after  our  interview,  to  say  that  I  had  neither  the  tact  nor  the 


120  O  U  H      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

courage  necessary  to  make  the  best  of  his  message  to  cousin 
Lomax,  and  that  I  begged  he  would  write  to  the  old  gentleman 
himself,  and  tell  him  his  determination.  In  consequence  of  this 
communication  Veronica,  during  the  week,  took  a  letter  out  of 
the  post-bag  in  Max's  handwriting. 

She  held  it  a  few  moments  in  her  hand  with  her  back  to  her 
uncle  Lomax,  and  then  said  in  a  constrained  voice,  which  she 
tried  in  vain  to  render  natural,  "  Uncle,  I  think  this  is  a  letter 
from  Max.  I  dare  say  it  contains  something  that  you  will  think 
romantic  nonsense  about  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre.  You  are  too 
ill  to  care  about  it  at  present.  Let  me  read  it  aloud." 

M  Read  me  that  letter  ?  .  .  .  .  No,  indeed.  What  the 
devil !  .  .  .  .  The  letter  is  a  letter  of  business.  Bring  it 
to  me." 

"  But  the  business  relates  to  me,  I  think,"  Veronica  replied. 
"  Uncle  Lomax,  I  have  been  wishing  to  say  to  you,  that  I  think 
you  quite  misunderstand  how  it  is  between  me  and  Max.  It  is 
not  usual,"  she  continued,  with  the  blood  mantling  in  her  face, 
"  for  a  lady  to  refuse  a  gentleman  before  he  has  asked  her,  but 
uncle,  forgive  me  if  I  go  contrary  to  the  kind  wishes  that  I  fear 
you  have  formed  for  me,  when  I  say  that  Max  is  not  a  person 
I  Avould  marry.  If  he  asked  me  a  thousand  times  over  to  be  his 
wife,  my  answer  would  be  no !  I  am  sorry,  dear  uncle,  to  say 
anything  that  you  will  fancy  hard  of  Max.  I  am  sorry  to  do 
my  part  towards  disappointing  you," — she  laid  the  letter  on  the 
table  and  knelt  down  by  his  chair — "  but  love  is  a  thing  that 
cannot  be  controlled.  And  since  I  would  not  marry  Max  if  he 
were  free,  why  should  he  not  court  and  win  Lady  Ellen  Macln 
tyre  ?  Kate  Vere  says  she  is  handsome,  energetic  and  accom 
plished.  I  think  Max,  by  such  a  marriage,  would  give  Castleton 
an  admirable  mistress,  and  you  and  I  could  travel  over  Europe, 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  121 

or  better  still,  go  over  the  Blue  Eidge  and  see  our  cousins  in 
Virginia." 

The  old  man  put  down  his  hand  and  turned  up  the  brave 
young  face  that  was  trying  to  smile. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  my  plan  ?  Will  you  take  me  to 
Virginia  ?  Shall  we  pay  a  visit  to  the  Old  Dominion,  uncle  ?" 

"  I  do  not  believe  you,"  said  he.  "  I  believe  your  face.  I 
think  you  care  for  Max.  And  I  begin  to  doubt  if  the  rascal  is 
worthy  of  you." 

Veronica's  face  flushed  up. 

"  I  do  not  care  for  Max,"  she  said.  "  Uncle,  I  speak  the  truth. 
Max  is  not  the  person  I  could  marry.  Take  me  to  London. 
Let  me  see  more  people.  We  see  few  here.  When  we  were 
children,  no  doubt  Max  and  I  played  at  being  in  love  as  children 
will  play  with  each  other.  But  neither  he  nor  I  wish  to  remem 
ber  that  old  childishness.  If  there  had  been  anything  of  a  posi 
tive  nature  between  us,  I  could  write  to  Max — could  tell  him  it 
was  over  now,  that  we  are  older  and  wiser.  I  could  tell  him 
that  I  hope  he  will  marry  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  let  Max  throw  himself  away  upon  that 
Scotch  woman,"  said  cousin  Lomax,  "  before  he  knows  what  is 
good  for  him." 

"  Max  is  twenty-one,"  pleaded  Veronica.  "  What  period  do 
you  fix  upon  for  his  coming  of  age  in  discretion  ?" 

Cousin  Lomax  made  a  pause.  "I  think  you  will  laugh  in 
your  sleeve  at  your  old  bachelor  uncle,  if  I  tell  you  that  I  doubt 
whether  any  young  man  (I  know  nothing  about  young  women) 
comes  of  age  in  discretion  till  after  his  first  experience  in  love. 
He  Avants  that  kind  of  thing  to  bring  out  his  character.  I  am 
not  much  concerned  about  this  fancy  for  my  Lady  Ellen  Mac- 

6 


122  O  U  K      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Intyre.  I  think  his  disappointment  in  that  business  may  end 
by  making  him  more  of  a  man  and  a  better  husband  for 
you." 

Veronica  rose  up  from  her  knees,  and  proudly  drew  herself 
to  her  full  height.  "  I  have  said  once  for  all  what  I  shall  say 
to  .the  end  of  my  life,  that  Max  and  I  shall  never  marry." 

"  Pshaw  !  that  is  a  girl's  nonsense." 

"  Not  at  all,  uncle ;  it  is  the  resolution  of  a  woman." 

Cousin  Lomax  looked  her  full  in  the  face,  and  her  blue  eyes 
met  his,  but  did  not  fall  under  his  gaze  for  several  moments. 
Each  seemed  to  be  measuring  the  other's  strength  of  purpose. 
Cousin  Lomax  very  likely  thought  of  his  old  will,  and  pon 
dered  several  important  clauses  in  his  new  one.  Presently 
Veronica's  eyes  fell ;  a  softer  look  crept  over  her  features.  She 
took  a  newspaper  from  the  table,  and  said,  "  Uncle,  I  am  going 
to  read  to  you." 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  I  do  not  care  to  be  read  to  at  this  moment. 
Veronica,  you  are  not  old  enough  to  know  the  influence  for  good 
or  evil  that  the  character  of  the  woman  he  knows  best  exercises 
on  every  man.  Take  care  you  do  no  harm  to  the  man  who 
loves  you.  If  you  prove  proud,  disdainful,  selfish  or  worldly,  if 
you  destroy  or  lower  a  man's  standard  of  what  constitutes  a  good 
woman  you  inflict  an  injury  which  nothing  but  another  woman's 
better  influence  can  repair." 

"  Uncle,  a  woman  cannot  m^rry  every  man  that  asks  her — 
she  cannot  return  all  the  love  that  may  be  offered  her." 

"  No,"  said  her  uncle,  "  but  she  need  not  injure  him  as  well  as 
disappoint  him.  A  man  is  not  the  worse  for  a  love  disappoint 
ment  (pshaw !  most  men  have  had  dozens  of  them)  provided  he 
comes  out  of  it  unembittered  against  women.  You  wonder 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  123 

what  I  know  about  it.  I  did  grow  bitter  under  that  influ 
ence  .  .  .  ." 

"Dearest  uncle!"  —  her  arms  were  round  his  neck,  and  her 
tears  were  falling  fast  —  "  let  me  love  you  and  be  always  with 
you.  I  wish  for  nothing  better  than  to  be  dear  to  you." 

But  then  remembering  that  his  love  for  her  might  injure  Max, 
she  checked  herself,  and  raising  her  wet  face  from  his  breast 
she  somewhat  coldly  withdrew. 

The  next  day  he  called  her  to  his  side,  and  putting  a  letter  into 
her  hand  addressed  to  Max,  asked  her  "  if  that  would  answer." 

MY  DEAR  KINSMAN  : 

"  It  is  not  worth  while  to  answer  your  last  letter,  which  I 
excuse  because  you  are  a  young  man  under  the  influence  of  your  first 
fancy.  I  believe  in  your  good  heart,  and  think  everything  will  turn  out 
right  when  you  have  got  rid  of  this  folly.  I  think  you  do  very  well  to 
go  abroad  and  see  the  world.  Stay  two  years  on  active  service,  and  my 
word  for  it  you  will  be  glad  enough  to  come  home  to  the  friends 
who  will  be  waiting  your  return  at  Castleton.  You  very  prematurely 
resign  all  claim  to  my  estate  or  my  allowances.  The  latter  will  not  be 
withdrawn.  I  shall  make  no  alteration  in  my  will  at  present.  It  is  but 
right  to  tell  you  that  your  late  conduct  seems  to  have  resulted  in  the 
estrangement  of  your  cousin,  who  "  swears  her  pretty  oath  by  yea  and 
nay,"  that  she  will  never  have  you.  Any  man  who  ta^s  no  for  an 
answer  from  such  a  woman  while  she  remains  unmarr-^d  is  a  fool.  You 
can  draw  for  the  usual  remittance  quarterly,  and  ^ay  write  me  a  letter 
from  your  new  quarters.  Your  cousin  and  •p°ar  sister  send  their  love, 
and  I  remain, 

"  Your  frie1^  an<*  kinsman, 

"  Castleton.  "  TQOS.  LOMAX." 


I  did  not  stay  l^ng  enough  at  Castleton  to  begin  Hume; 
and  only  lonu  ^nough  to  read  two  volumes  of  Gibbon.  I  was 
summoned  iome  by  sickness  in  our  family.  When  I  left  Castlo- 


124  OCR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

ton,  cousin  Lomax's  health  seemed  very  much  broken  up,  and 
Veronica  had  grown  so  pale  and  changed,  that  my  father  pro 
nounced  her  "  quite  a  wreck,"  when  he  came  on  to  escort  me. 
She  did  not  seem  to  mind  my  loss  so  much  as  I  should  have 
expected.  My  knowledge  of  her  secret,  put  a  restraint  upon 
our  intercourse.  I  dare  say  I  was  continually  reminding  her 
of  Max — who,  by  the  way,  l>y  that  time  had  written  us  a  short 
letter  from  Gibraltar. 

My  memory  paints  her  as  she  stood  upon  the  steps  of  the 
Italian  porch  the  morning  that  we  drove  from  Castleton.  I 
thought  she  looked  like  a  broken  lily. 

"  I  do  not  think  she  will  live  long,"  my  father  said ;  "  she  is  so 
slight,  and  if  cousin  Lomax  continues  in  his  present  mood,  her 
death  will  be  Max's  best  chance  of  inheriting  Castleton." 

Castleton  without  Veronica — what  would  Castleton  be  ?  I 
pictured  a  robust,  proud,  dark-haired  woman  sweeping  through 
its  halls.  The  presence  of  such  a  person  seemed  unnatural- 
Veronica  seemed  identified  with  the  place.  She  had  grown  with 
the  growth  of  everything,  dumb  creature  and  green  herb,  that 
lived  and  grew  there. 

I  could  not  fancy  what  it  would  become  without  her  presence. 
I  looked  bu«k  upon  her  as  she  stood  leaning  against  the  florid 
stone  pillar  of  the  porch,  and  as  long  as  she  could  be  seen,  I 
watched  her.  Old  Luath,  faithful  to  the  last,  waited  beside  her. 
Spring  flowers  bloomea  in  quaint,  stiff  parterres  at  her  feet. 
Could  my  father's  prophesy  v  true?  Would  these  flowers,  the 
next  spring  put  forth  new  life,  ant  she  not  be  at  Castleton  to 
rejoice  over  them  ?  Would  the  same  ?,m  fa\\  acr0ss  the  porch, 
and  lose  no  beam  before  it  reached  the  pave«ent  in  illuminatino- 
her  hair?  Would  the  stag-hound  lie  lonely  -vith  his  paws 
crossed  like  a  statue  on  the  threshold,  caressed  u*jly  by  the 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  125 

servants  for  the  sake  of  her  who  was  gone  ?  Would  the  village 
bells  she  loved,  ring  out  their  evening  chime,  though  she 
could  never  hear  them  ?  Would  the  poor  pass  by  the  gate  by 
which  they  had  been  wont  to  enter  ?  Would  the  village  children 
whom  she  taught,  grow  up  with  only  a  dim  remembrance  of 
some  one  fair  and  slight,  with  golden  hair  and  a  light  step,  and 
draw  from  faint  impressions  of  this  vision  of  their  youth  their 
notions  of  an  angel  ?  Would  the  rose  over  old  Mammy's  grave 
grow  raggedly  luxuriant  for  Avant  of  training  ?  Would  her  place 
know  her  no  more  ?  Should  I  pay  lonely  visits  to  old  Castleton  ? 
Would  the  sound  of  her  piano  make  our  hearts  ache  ?  Would 
her  white  pony  whinny  for  her  step  and  never  hear  it  more  ? 

It  was  a  true  prophecy — a  morning  dream  which  as  we  wake 
catches  something  from  real  objects.  I  came  back  to  Castleton 
alone  the  following  spring,  and  as  I  drove  up  the  avenue  and 
saw  everything  unchanged  excepting  the  one  great  change,  that 
Veronica  "  was  not,"  the  vision  of  the  spring  before  became  a 
painful  reality. 

She  continued  to  write  to  me,  but  her  letters  were  short  and 
unsatisfactory.  Any  body  who  has  ever  tried  writing  familiar 
letters  from  which  the  whole  of  that  which  gives  tone  and 
coloring  to  one's  daily  life  must  be  left  out,  will  understand  why 
the  correspondence  wearied  her. 

Late  in  the  autumn  she  wrote  me  an  account  of  Dr.  Dwyer's 
death.  He  died  very  suddenly  of  apoplexy  and  cousin  Lomax 
she  said  had  been  very  kind  to  Miss  Alicia,  and  begged  her  to 
make  Castleton  her  home. 

In  a  succeeding  letter  she  told  me  of  the  arrival  of  another 
clergyman.  A  different  person  it  appeared  from  Dr.  Dwyer, 
who  was  a  divine  of  the  dry  old  school,  and  preached  sermons 
culled  from  Warburton  and  Tillotson,  and  other  sapless  trees  of 


126  OUK      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

controversial  divinity.  I  do  not  intend  to  paint  the  influence 
which  this  gentleman's  discourses  had  upon  her — for,  indeed, 
Veronica  has  never  declared  it  to  me.  I  saw  it  in  after  years 
in  the  fulfillment  of  that  verse,  "  If  any  man  be  in  Christ  he  is  a 
new  creature — old  things  have  passed  away — all  things  have 
become  new." 

There  was  at  this  time  a  new  principle  imparted,  a  new  motive 
acquired,  new  hopes,  new  aims  which  were  to  tune  the  discords 
of  her  life,  and  bring  it  into  harmony  with  the  works  and  nature 
of  our  Father  in  Heaven.  The  new  leaven  was  hidden  in  the 
measure  of  meal,  and  the  whole  lump  was  being  quickened  by 
the  influence  of  that  leaven. 

Whoever  thinks  that  the  improvement  of  character  even 
under  Heavenly  influences  is  not  progressive,  has  either  had  no 
experience  of  the  work,  or  will  find  himself  fatally  mistaken. 

But  while  these  new  hopes  dawned  upon  her  life,  while  "  let 
there  be  light,"  was  spoken  to  her  soul,  her  physical  frame,  as 
my  father  had  foreseen,  gave  way  under  the  influence  of  her 
conflicting  feelings.  Miss  Alicia,  soon  after  she  came  to  Castle- 
ton,  found  herself  called  upon  to  nurse  Veronica  with  all  her 
skill  and  tenderness.  Happily  the  sickness  was  sharp,  positive, 
and  short ;  in  cases  like  hers  it  is  more  often  weary,  indefinite 
and  long. 

They  despaired  of  her  life  for  nearly  a  week,  during  which 
time,  as  Miss  Alicia  told  me  afterwards,  "she  kept  repeating 
over  and  over  some  scene  between  you  and  your  brother,  poor 
dear,  in  her  delirium."  Another  delusion  was  that  everything 
about  her  room  was  dark,  and  from  the  darkness  glowed  letters 
of  fire  a  thousand  times  repeated,  waving,  floating,  above  her, 
around  her,  behind  her,  scorching  her  by  contact,  dazzling  and 
blinding  her,  the  words  "  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre." 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  127 

When  she  was  better,  the  physician  recommended  change. 

"  Oh,  Dr.  Denny,"  she  said,  when  this  was  first  made  known 
to  her,  "  order  me  back  to  Old  Virginia.  I  feel  sure  I  should  get 
better  if  I  could  breathe  my  native  air.  The  blue  hills  of  our 
Valley  which  I  faintly  remember,  are  the  back-ground  of  my  fan 
cies.  Everything  would  be  right  (since  I  must  live),  if  I  could 
go  back  to  Virginia.  I  have  a  letter  from  my  aunt  Edmonia, 
begging  me  to  pay  her  a  visit.  Dr.  Denny,  please  ask  uncle 
Lomax  to  let  me  go." 

By-and-by  I  had  a  letter  from  her  in  a  weak  hand. 

"  DEAR  MOLLY  : 

"  You  have  heard,  I  dare  say,  of  my  illness.  Miss  Alicia  and 
Mrs.  Mayhew  nursed  me  with  the  kindest  care ;  but  for  them  our  beauti 
ful  village  chimes  would  have  tolled  for  me  as  they  are  now  doing  for 
old  Goody  Howe.  Molly,  I  wonder  they  don't  ring  their  happiest 
chimes  for  a  believer's  funeral.  I  do  not  mean  to  repine  at  what  appears 
to  be  God's  will.  I  take  back  His  gift  of  life,  and  will  try  to  give  a 
good  account  of  my  stewardship,  and  to  use  it  thankfully.  Our  new 
Rector  has  been  here  talking  to  me  this  morning.  He  says  that  when 
people  have  had  losses  in  life  and  trust  in  God,  He  makes  up  in  Himself 
what  they  find  wanting.  He  says  that  is  the  meaning  of  the  verse  which 
says,  "if  we  bear  the  loss  of  houses  and  lands,  and  wife  and  children 
for  His  sake,  we  shall  receive  an  hundred  fold  now  in  this  present  time 
and  in  the  world  to  come  life  everlasting."  He  says  too,  we  may  find 
compensation  for  many  griefs  in  Christian  fellowship.  He  has  lent  me 
a  sweet  book  particularly  adapted  to  soothe  such  restless  feelings  as  I 
have  had  of  late.  It  is  called  "  The  Christian  Year,"  by  Mr.  Keble.  Our 
Rector  has  suffered  very  much  himself,  we  hear,  and  so  he  knows  how  to 
understand  a  great  deal  that  does  not  seem  to  be  alluded  to  in  sermons. 
Luath,  all  through  my  illness  lay  at  my  door  ;  they  could  not  get  him 
away.  They  have  cut  off  all  my  hair.  They  brought  all  the  ice  left  in  the 
ice-house  at  Vere  Park  ancl  pal  it  on  my  head  during  the  week  I  passed 
in  a  state  of  delirium.  What  I  want  to  tell  you  is,  that  I  am  going  to 


128  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Virginia.  A  lady  and  gentleman  whom  uncle  Lomax  knows,  are  going 
back  this  spring  in  one  of  the  new  ocean  steamers.  Dr.  Denny  says  I 
must  go  back  to  my  native  air.  We  have  written  to  aunt  Edmonia,  and 
some  of  my  cousins  will  meet  me  in  Baltimore.  Dear  old  Mammy !  I 
wish  she  could  have  gone  back  to '  Ole  Virginny.'  Tell  Max  when  he  comes 
to  Castleton,  to  see  that  her  grave  is  kept  in  good  repair.  My  chief 
regret  is  in  leaving  my  dear  uncle.  Miss  Alicia  will  take  care  of  him, 
but  he  wants  better  companionship  than  Miss  Alicia.  AVhat  I  want  you 
to  do  is  to  write  to  Max,  and  tell  him  how  very  feeble  uncle  Lomax  is, 
and  that  you  think  he  had  better  get  leave  and  come  at  once  to  Castleton. 
Uncle  will  find  in  his  society  great  comfort — so  shall  I,  to  think  that  he 
is  there.  Uncle  Lomax  is  not  pleased  with  my  going  to  Virginia,  and  I 
dare  say  I  am  not  so  ill  but  that  I  could  live  here  still,  but  I  have  been 
wishing  for  some  time  past  to  go  there.  I  suppose  I  shall  not  see  you, 
dear  Molly,  as  we  go  up  to  London  as  soon  as  I  can  travel.  Oh !  Molly, 
how  can  I  ever  bear  to  leave  dear  Castleton?  Do  write  to  Max  by  the 
next  post  to  come  and  comfort  uncle  Lomax.  I  have  written  in  great 
weakness,  and  have  said  several  things  I  did  not  mean  to  say.  If  I  had 
strength  to  write  another  letter  for  this  post,  I  would  tear  this  up. 
Good-bye,  dear  Molly — I  am  very  tired. 

"  Your  affectionate  cousin, 

"VKHOXICA  LOMAX. 

"P.  S. — Pray  write  at  once  to  Max.  It  is  important,  I  think,  that  he 
should  be  at  home.  Please  not  to  allude,  if  you  write,  to  anything  I 
have  said  about  feeling  depressed.  It  is  only  weakness.  If  I  could,  I 
would  re-write  my  letter." 


END    OF    PART    FIRST. 


PART    SECOND. 


He  who  for  Love  has  undergone 

The  worst  that  can  befall,  ^ 

• 
Is  happier,  thousand-fold,  than  one  ^    • 

Who  never  loved  at  all ; 

A  grace  within  his  soul  hath  reigned 

Which  nothing  else  can  bring —  ^ 

Thank  God  for  all  that  I  have  gained 

By  that  high  suffering  ! 

R.   M.   MILNE3. 


c* 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  131 


PART    II. 


CHAPTER    I. 

I  might  reprove  thy  broken  faith, 

I  might  recall  the  time 
When  thou  wert  chartered  mine  till  death 

Through  every  fate  and  clime  ; 
When  every  letter  was  a  vow, 

And  fancy  was  not  free 
To  dream  of  ended  love ; — and  thou 

Wouldst  say  the  same  of  me. 

R.  M.  MILNES. 

THREE  years  have  passed  since  the  close  of  the  first  part  of  this 
narrative  shall  I  call  it  ? — or  biography  ? 

"  Happy  are  the  people  whose  annals  are  a  blank,"  says  Car- 
lyle,  quoting  from  somebody.  I  do  not  think  Veronica's  were 
very  happy,  but  I  know  very  little  about  them.  She  was  in 
Virginia,  and  I  at  home,  living  in  a  quiet  country  town  only 
enlivened  by  its  garrison ;  reading  everything  readable  that 
could  be  found ;  doing  a  good  deal  of  fancy  work ;  attending  any 
stray  concerts,  bonnet  shows,  or  lectures,  or  even  a  travelling 
menagerie ;  grateful  for  a  card  party  where  the  lawfulness  of  life 
insurance  was  discussed  over  the  whist  table ;  or  a  share  in 
entertainments  given  by  the  "  other  set,"  where  the  prophesies 


132  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA 

of  the  Apocalypse  wore  adapted  to  the  latest  information  about 
the  state  of  Europe  in  their  three  days  old  Times  newspaper, 
and  delivered  in  short  expository  lectures  over  tea  and  toast, 
by  "  Dear  Dr.  Bogg." 

Max  returned  to  England  a  few  months  after  the  departure  of 
Vreronica,  but  he  was  gloomy  and  dispirited,  and  out  of  favor 
at  Castleton.  He  hunted  with  the  hounds  of  the  East  Riding, 
and  fished  a  good  deal  in  the  river,  tossed  over  the  old  books  in 
the  library  without  an  appetite,  yawned,  and  was  poor  company 
for  cousin  Lomax,  who  watched  him  shrewdly  enough  for  a 
week  or  two,  then  told  him  he  was  "  no  good,"  and  had  better  go 
back  to  his  regiment,  or  travel  abroad.  The  latter  proposition 
was  very  agreeable  to  Max.  He  recovered  something  of  his 
former  animation  when  he  told  us  of  the  project.  This  travelling 
about  the  world  without  an  object,  is  rarely  of  great  service  to 
young  men ;  and  it  was  better  for  him,  I  think,  when  he  found 
himself  once  more  with  his  regiment,  which  Avent  into  garrison 
in  the  Eastern  counties.  I  rarely  heard  from  Veronica.  The 
Virginia  disinclination  to  write  letters  seemed  to  have  seized 
upon  her.  She  wrote  regularly  to  cousin  Lomax,  but  her 
correspondence  with  him  confined  itself  principally  to  the 
prospects  of  the  crops,  and  general  news  about  people  over  the 
Ridge  whom  I  had  never  heard  of.  She  told  us  nothing  about 
herself,  except  that  she  was  living  with  her  aunt  Edrnonia.  She 
never  spoke  of  coming  back,  and  cousin  Lomax  would  not  ask 
her  to  return  to  Castleton.  He  had  penetrated  her  motive,  and 
had  been  much  dissatisfied  with  he?  for  going  away.  I  had  an 
instinctive  impression  that  she  was  very  wretched,  but  she  never 
hinted  at  a  secret  grief,  and  I  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  ask  her. 
The  estrangement  between  her  and  Max  blighted  our  intercourse. 
My  spirit  too  was  not  in  tune  with  any  kind  of  misery.  I  stood 


OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA.  133 

in  the  first  warm  glow  of  my  life's  sunshine.  The  cloudless 
dawn  of  nursery  days  had  given  me  a  happy  promise,  but  the 
promise  was  nothing  to  the  brightness  of  its  coming.  All  the 
earth  seemed  full  of  its  glory.  "Every  leaf  in  every  nook," 
glowed  with  fresh  beauty  in  its  golden  light,  and  glittered  in  its 
gladness.  Every  clod  of  common  earth  gave  back  the  reflection 
of  my  happiness.  Hymns  went  up  from  my  heart  to  the  Father 
of  Lights. 

Some  years  after  our  regiment  moved  away  from  the  town  in 
which  it  was  quartered  at  the  opening  of  this  history,  it  was 
joined  in  a  quiet  garrison  town  at  the  North,  by  the  handsome 
nephew  of  Sir  Harris  Howard. 

I  am  not  writing  my  own  biography,  but  the  story  of  my 
brother  and  Veronica.  It  will  be  quite  enough  to  say  that  Mr. 
Howard  thought  himself  attached  to  me.  He  told  me  so,  and  I 
was  very  happy.  I  never  had  the  power  of  winning.  I  never 
knew  the  secret  of  that  pleasure  which  some  women  take  in 
effecting  what  is  called  a  conquest.  God  gave  me  only  the 
power  of  loving.  He  rarely  gives  them  both.  My  happiness 
had  sought  me  out.  I  never  thought  of  securing  his  regard  till 
I  was  conscious  I  had  won  it,  and  then  with  trembling  thoughts 
of  my  unworthiness,  and  fears  lest  I  should  never  rightly  guard 
the  treasure  of  his  preference,  I  gave  myself  up  to  the  enjoyment 
of  a  happiness  which  seemed  in  the  fullest  sense  the  gift  of 
God. 

It  was  a  match,  too — looking  at  it  as  a  match — very  far  above 
my  fortunes.  My  father  had  hinted  no  disapproval  of  the  court 
ship  (my  step-mother  had  openly  encouraged  it),  and  I  was 
pleased  to  think  my  future  place  in  life  would  gratify  the  ambi 
tion  of  my  family. 

There  was  nothing  to  break  in  upon  my  happy  dream  except 


134  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

the  thought  that  I  was  so  unworthy  of  my  happiness.  I  could 
hardly  bear  the  presence  of  those  less  happy  than  myself.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  they  must  feel  it  hardly  right  that  I  should 
have  been  taken  while  so  many  had  been  left  to  loneliness  and 
sorrow. 

Such  were  my  feelings  at  twenty-one.  Other  women  are 
more  formed  at  that  age,  I  dare  say,  and  have  profited  more 
than  I  had  done  by  experience  and  education,  especially  Ameri 
can  women,  who  are  born,  I  think,  with  a  knowledge  of  the 
world. 

Mr.  Howard  was  little  like  other  officers  in  the  regiment. 
He  liked  quiet  home  ways,  and  was  pleased  to  be  admitted  into 
our  family  interior.  He  had  been  sent  to  Oxford,  which  he 
quitted  from  a  deficiency  of  application — but  his  acquaintance 
with  belles  lettres  was  much  greater  than  that  of  any  person 
with  whom  I  had  ever  been  thrown,  and  a  girl  is  as  easily 
dazzled  by  acquirement  as  reputation. 

We  first  became  familiar  over  a  book  of  sonnets.  I  said  I  could 
take  no  pleasure  in  the  formalities  and  perfections  of  a  sonnet. 
That  whenever  my  fancy  painted  Poetry  it  was  with  "robes 
loosely  flowing,  hair  as  free,"  not  starched  and  hooped,  and 
dressed  by  rule,  with  patches  and  powder.  He  replied  by  repeat 
ing  Wordsworth's  sonnet  in  defence  of  sonnets.  Then  he  intro 
duced  me  to  those  of  Milton  which  I  had  read  carelessly ; 
explained  to  me  the  principles  which  regulate  the  composition 
of  the  sonnet,  and  showed  me  that  the  greater  part  of  those 
which  bear  the  name  are  excluded  from  competition  by  defects 
in  their  construction.  He  brought  me  English  sonnets  in  a 
dozen  books.  He  encouraged  me  to  attempt  the  severe  compo 
sition  of  sonnets.  He  brought  me  beautiful  Italian  ones ;  and 
when  lie  found  I  only  half  understood  them  in  the  original,  he 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  135 

insisted  on  helping  me  to  study  Italian.  We  read  Dante,  and 
Petrarch  together. 

How  driest  books  and  common  themes  blossomed  into  interest 
and  beauty  when  he  talked  about  them  !  I  had  been  beginning 
to  fancy  that  life  was  a  dull  round  of  petty  daily  cares.  He 
opened  for  me  the  book  of  Art,  and  quickened  my  perceptions 
of  the  Beautiful.  It  seemed  to  me  that  he  knew  everything,  and 
that  I  knew  nothing.  But  he  was  eager  to  teach,  and  I  delighted 
to  learn.  He  fancied  I  was  piquante.  I  had  natural  uncultivated 
taste  and  power  of  appreciation,  and  had  ability  enough  to  follow 
where  he  led. 

He  lent  me  piles  of  beautifully  bound  books ;  among  his  other 
cultivated  fancies  was  a  love  for  handsome  print,  and  handsome 
bindings.  My  little  writing-table  was  polyglot.  Poetry  in  all 
languages;  Essays  on  Plato  and  Michael  Angelo;  boxes  of 
models  from  Italian  gems ;  selections  from  the  Elizabethan 
Dramatists ;  La  Mothe  Fouque ;  Prosper  Merimee ;  Souvestre,  and 
Villmarque ;  Books  of  ballad  poetry ;  chronicles  in  old  black 
letter ;  reprints  of  the  Roxburgh  Club ;  an  essay  on  the  Basque 
dialect  (his  own  composition) ;  another  on  the  Pythagorian 
Theory  of  numbers ;  and  other  productions,  MSS.  and  printed, 
of  his  own. 

There  was  another  thing  that  acted  strongly  on  my  feelings  in 
our  intercourse.  I  was  too  young  to  distinguish  between  reli 
gious  sentiment  and  religious  principle.  He  had  a  good  deal 
of  the  former,  which  generally  accompanies  a  true  sense  of  art. 

After  several  months  of  happy  intercourse,  sanctioned  and 
approved  of  by  my  family,  he  was  called  away  one  morning  when 
we  were  reading  together  the  Vita  Nuova.  He  laid  down  the 
book,  supposing  it  was  regimental  business,  promising  to  come 
back  in  a  few  moments. 


136  OUK      COUSIN      VEHONICA. 

He  never  returned.  He  was  wanted  by  his  uncle,  who  had 
learnt  that  he  was  paying  attentions  to  a  girl  with  little  personal 
beauty  and  no  fortune.  His  family  had  other  views  for  him.  It 
was  in  every  way  desirable  that  he  should  many  our  old  school 
fellow,  the  little  Indian,  the  daughter  of  Sir  Harris  and  the 
Be<mm.  Howard  Park  without  her  stars  in  the  East  India 

O 

Company's  book  to  keep  it  up  would  be  a  barren  inheritance. 
He  did  not  like  the  "  nut  brown  bride"  they  had  in  store  for 
him.  He  had  often  joked  with  me  about  the  plan  of  his  own 
family,  and  had  quoted  the  coarse  proverb  of  the  18th  century, 
that  such  a  marriage  was  "  de  mettre  du  fumier  sur  nos  terres? 
But  I  never  supposed  they  would  really  oppose  his  marriage 
witli  the  daughter  of  my  father.  We  Mandevilles  had  been 
accustomed  to  consider  ourselves  equal  to  any  one  in  point  of 
family — and  except  to  pass  reflections  on  the  worthlessness  of 
wealth,  I  did  not  think  about  money.  My  father  was  not  rich, 
but  I  had  always  had  enough  to  spend  and  spare.  General  Sir 
Harris  Howard  carried  his  nephew  away  from  me.  I  believe  he 
found  a  pretext  in  the  illness  of  the  Begum.  Mr.  Howard  wrote 
me  a  letter  the  next  day,  enclosing  it  under  cover  to  my  father. 
It  was  an  offer  of  marriage.  He  confessed  the  disapproval  of 
his  uncle  ;  but  time  he  said  would  soften  opposition  from  that 
quarter,  I  must  have  faith  in  him,  and  wait  the  end. 

When  my  father  saw  this  letter  he  forbade  all  future  inter 
course.  He  said  that  no  one  should  suppose  he  had  made  use 
of  his  position  as  commanding  officer  of  the  Regiment  to  marry 
his  daughter  to  a  man  above  her  station. 

He  wrote  thus  to  Mr.  Howard  himself.  I  could  not  write.  The 
answer  was  one  of  entreaty,  tenderness,  and  despair.  Mr.  How 
ard  reminded  me  that  I  was  his  by  every  tie  of  affection.  He 
implored  me  not  to  be  conventional,  to  consider  myself  engaged 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  137 

to  him  in  spite  of  the  opposition  of  our  families.  He  should  con 
sider  himself  bound  to  me  till  by  my  own  hand  or  from  my  own 
lips  he  learned  that  my  decision  to  part  was  voluntary. 

I  told  my  father  that  we  could  not  give  each  other  up ;  but  I 
submitted  to  his  Avishes  so  far  as  to  promise  that  until  Mr.  How 
ard  obtained  the  approbation  of  his  uncle,  or  occupied  a  position 
independent  of  his  family  I  would  not  see  him  nor  write  to  him. 

My  father  was  a  wise  man.  He  had  full  confidence  in  my 
word,  and  was  satisfied  not  to  put  too  great  a  strain  on  my  obe 
dience.  If  we  took  any  satisfaction  in  considering  ourselves 
bound  to  each  other  when  such  an  engagement  was  not  acknow 
ledged  by  our  families,  we  were  at  liberty  to  fancy  ourselves 
engaged,  provided  we  refrained  from  intercourse  with  each 
other. 

Every  body  was  very  kind  to  me ;  but  it  was  one  of  those 
cases  in  which  change  of  place  and  occupation  is  the  only  pos 
sible  alleviation  to  the  ever-present  pain. 

While  things  were  thus  with  us  we  got  an  express  one  morn 
ing  from  Max,  summoning  our  father  to  the  death-bed  of  cousin 
Loin  ax  at  Castleton.  The  old  gentleman  had  had  a  paralytic 
stroke,  and  could  speak  very  indistinctly  when  our  father  arrived. 
Almost  the  only  sentence  those  around  the  dying  bed  could 
understand  was  addressed  to  him  on  entering  the  chamber. 

"  I  hope  you  will  be  satisfied,  Colonel,  with  my  provision  for 
your  son." 

"  Of  course,  sir — quite  satisfied,"  said  our  father,  who  was  the 
least  selfish  man  in  the  world. 

So  the  old  man  on  the  14th  of  October,  1841,  went  to  his  rest, 
and  they  buried  him  under  the  Chancel  in  the  little  church  at 
Castleton — far  away  from  his  father  and  his  mother,  and  his 
baby  sisters  who  had  loved  him,  sleeping  under  the  green  sod 


138  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

of  old  Virginia,  in  the  little  road-side  church  yard,  beneath  the 
willows  and  the  yews. 

He  had  been  a  good  landlord,  but  never  was  personally  popu 
lar.  The  people  never  looked  on  him  as  a  legitimate  lord  of 
the  soil.  He  had  not  been  brought  up  among  them.  He  was 
cold  and  aristocratic.  He  neither  shared  their  interests  nor 
their  prejudices.  There  was  nothing  John  Bullish,  but  his  top 
boots,  about  him.  They  always  felt  lie  was  a  foreigner.  Max 
had  been  a  very  popular  heir  presumptive,  and  the  sun-flowers 
of  the  neighborhood  turned  their  faces  readily  to  the  rising 
sun. 

Two  days  after  the  funeral  our  father  returned  home  from 
Castleton,  leavino-  Max  behind. 

'  O 

It  was  cold  weather,  and  the  coach  came  in  about  nightfall. 
When  I  saw  him  coming  through  the  gate  with  ruddy  cheeks 
and  an  icy  glow  about  him,  I  ran  out  to  meet  him. 

"Dear  papa,"  I  cried,  "tell  me  about  Max!  Has  cousin 
Lomax  left  him  Castleton  ?" 

"  Yes — yes,"  said  my  father,  "  it  is  all  right.  The  old  gentle 
man  has  made  a  very  judicious  will.  Max  will  have  Castleton." 

"  And  Veronica  ?" 

"Will  marry  Max,  and  live  there  too.  He  is  going  out  to 
court  her  as  soon  as  he  can  make  arrangements  to  leave  Castle 
ton." 

"  I  am  so  glad  of  it,  papa." 

"  And  so  am  I.  WTe  could  not  wish  a  better  little  wife  for 
him.  She  is  a  sweet  girl,  and  it  was  a  match  cousin  Lomax  had 
set  his  heart  upon.  I  am  glad  to  find  that  Max  had  been  think 
ing  about  her  for  some  time  before  he  was  made  aware  that  any 
proviso  was  attached  to  the  possession  of  Castleton." 

"  What  proviso  is  attached  to  Castleton  ?"  I  cried. 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  139 

"  That  lie  should  rnarry  Veronica.  Do  you  want  to  see  the 
will  ?  Here  it  is — I  took  a  copy  of  it." 

"  Poor  old  gentleman  !"  said  I,  "  I  wish  Veronica  had  been  at 
Castleton  when  he  died.  He  never  quite  forgave  her  for  going 
away." 

"  He  was  a  good  kind-hearted  man,"  said  my  father,  "  without 
the  power  of  attracting  human  affection.  There  is  a  '  magnetic 
influence,'  as  you  call  it,  about  that  sort  of  thing.  Every  body 
served  him  from  a  sense  of  duty,  and  there  was  an  end  of  the 
relations  between  them.  Did  you  ever  know,  Molly,  that  he  was 
attached  to  Veronica's  mother  ?" 

"  Is  it  possible  ?" 

"  Yes — and  he  felt  her  loss  very  much  when  she  married  his 
brother.  Women  always  choose  the  man  who  has  some  dash 
about  him.  You  all  go  in  for  the  showy,  every  one  of  you, 
like  your  mother  who  wants  me  to  buy  a  French  polished 
dining  table — instead  of  that  set  at  Dawson's — good  solid 
old-fashioned  mahogany." 

"  Was  that  the  reason  he  adopted  Veronica  ?" 

"  I  cannot  tell.  I  believe  he  was  very  much  displeased  with 
his  sister-in-law  as  well  as  with  Alonzo.  He  thought  she  ought  to 
have  had  better  judgment  and  to  have  given  him  the  preference. 
Perhaps  she  flirted.  However,  I  believe  the  marriage  was  rather 
an  underhand  thing.  Every  thing  was  underhand  that  was 
managed  by  Alonzo.  The  old  gentleman  had  no  commwiication 
with  either  of  them  until  after  her  death.  Had  Alonzo  lived, 
there  never  could  have  been  any  cordiality  between  the  brothers." 

My  father  said  all  this  as  he  was  taking  oft'  his  outer  wrap 
pings — hanging  up  on  its  accustomed  peg  a  military  cloak,  in 
which  he  used  to  travel  on  cold  days,  with  a  brass  chain  to  fasten 
it  about  the  neck,  and  a  red  camlet  lining.  He  patronized  scar- 


140  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

let,  which  he  used  to  say  no  civilian  had  any  right  to  wear,  any 
more  than  lie  had  to  sport  mustachios, — both  being  the  perqui 
sites  of  English  cavalry  officers. 

I  opened  the  paper  containing  cousin  Loinax's  will.  It  ran  as 
follows : — 

"  I,  Thomas  Lomax,  bachelor,  of  the  Parish  of  Castleton,  in  the 
East  Riding  of  Yorkshire,  being  of  failing  Uodily  health,  but  of  sound 
mind,  declare  this  to  be  my  last  Will  and  Testament. 

"  1st.  I  desire  that  all  my  just  debts  shall  be  paid. 

"  2dly.  I  leave  to  all  of  my  servants  who  at  the  time  of  my  death  may 
be  resident  at  Castleton,  three  years'  wages,  to  be  paid  out  of  my  per 
sonal  estate,  within  one  year  and  a  day  after  my  funeral. 

"  3dly.  I  give  and  bequeath  my  estate  of  Castleton,  in  the  East  Riding 
of  Yorkshire,  together  with  all  my  personal  estate  that  I  may  have 
in  England  at  the  time  of  my  death,  to  my  kinsman  and  namesake, 
Thomas  Lomax  Mandeville,  Captain  in  Her  Majesty's  118th  Regiment  of 
foot,  to  have  and  to  hold  to  him  and  his  heirs  in  fee,  Provided,  that  the 
said  Thomas  Lomax  Mandeville,  shall,  within  one  year  after  my  decease, 
marry  my  beloved  niece,  Veronica  Lomax,  daughter  of  my  late  brother, 
Alonzo  Lomax,  Esq.,  of  Virginia,  in  the  United  States  of  America. 

"  4thly.  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  beloved  niece,  Veronica  Lomax, 
my  Oatlands  Estate,  situate  in  Jefferson  County,  Virginia,  together 
with  all  property,  landed  or  personal,  of  which  I  may  die  possessed  in  the 
United  States  of  America,  to  her  and  to  her  heirs  in  fee,  Provided,  that 
the  said  Veronica  Lomax  shall  marry,  within  one  year  after  my  decease, 
my  kinsman  and  namesake,  Thomas  Lomax  Mandeville,  Esq. 

"  5thly.  Should  the  said  Veronica  Lomax,  having  received  proposals 
of  marriage  from  the  said  Thomas  Lomax  Mandeville,  remain  unmarried 
to  him  more  than  one  year  after  my  death,  I  will  and  desire  that  my 
Estate  of  Castleton  shall  be  sold,  together  with  all  my  personal  estate, 
of  which  I  may  die  possessed  (always  excepting  such  slaves  as  I  may 
own  in  Virginia),  and  the  proceeds  of  such  sales  be  divided  between  the 
said  Thomas  Lomax  Mandeville,  and  my  said  niece  Veronica.  Also,  I 
declare  all  other  provisions  of  my  present  will,  saving  only  the  1st,  2nd 
and  7th  clauses  to  be  null  and  of  no  effect.  And  I  give  to  my  sister 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  141 

Barbara,  widow  of  William  Williams,  Esq.,  of  Clarke  County,  Virginia,  my 
Estate  of  Oatlands  in  Jefferson  County,  Virginia,  to  her  and  to  her  heirs 
in  fee,  together  with  all  the  negroes  of  which  I  may  die  possessed,  desiring 
always  that  in  any  disposition  of  my  property  the  negroes  shall  belong  to 
whomsoever  shall  inherit  my  landed  estate  in  Jefferson  County,  Virginia. 

"  Cthly.  Should  the  said  Thomas  Lomax  Mandeville,  disregarding  my 
wishes  on  this  subject,  make  no  proposition  of  marriage  to  the  said 
Veronica  Lomax,  within  one  year  after  my  death,  then  revoking  all  for 
mer  dispositions  in  his  favor,  I  will  and  bequeath  to  the  said  Thomas 
Lomax  Mandeville,  my  Oatlands  Estate,  situated  in  Virginia,  together 
with  all  property,  landed  or  personal,  that  I  may  die  possessed  of  in  the 
United  States  of  America  ;  in  which  event  I  give  and  bequeath  to  my 
before-named  niece,  Veronica  Lomax,  my  estate  of  Castleton,  to  have 
and  to  hold,  to  her  and  to  her  heirs  in  fee,  together  with  all  personal 
estate  in  England  of  which  I  may  die  possessed,  revoking  all  former  pro 
visions  of  this  will,  excepting  only  the  1st  and  2d  clauses ;  provided 
always  that  whosoever  of  these,  my  heirs,  shall  be  possessed  of  my  Vir 
ginia  property,  shall  pay  out  of  my  Oatlands  Estate,  the  sum  of  five 
hundred  dollars,  yearly,  to  my  sister  Barbara,  widow  of  William  Wil 
liams,  Esq.,  of  Clarke  County,  Virginia. 

"  Tthly.  I  appoint  the  Hon.  James  Edmund  Tyrell,  late  Governor  of 
the  State  of  Virginia,  of  Stonehenge,  Jefferson  County,  Virginia,  and 
Lieutenant  Colonel  Mandeville,  of  Her  Majesty's  Dragoons,  Executors  of 
this  my  last  Will  and  Testament. 

"  Signed, 

"  THOMAS  LOMAX. 

"  Witnesses, 

"  ALICIA  DWYER,  Spinster, 
"JoiiN  DENXT, 

"  JOHX  HUGHES." 


142  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 


CHAPTER   II. 

See  how  yon  flaming  herald  treads 

The  ridged  and  rolling  waves, 
As,  crashing  o'er  their  crested  heads 

She  bows  her  surly  slaves ; 
With  foam  before  and  fire  behind 

She  rends  the  clinging  sea, 
That  flies  before  the  roaring  wind 

Beneath  her  hissing  lee. 

With  clashing  wheel  and  lifting  keel 

And  smoking  torch  on  high, 
When  winds  are  loud  and  billows  reel, 

She  thunders  foaming  by ; 
When  seas  are  silent  and  serene 

With  even  beam  she  glides, 
The  sunshine  glimmering  through  the  green 

That  skirts  her  gleaming  sides. 

0.  W.  HOLMES. 

MAX'S  salutation  when  he  returned  from  Castleton  was,  "  Well, 
little  Molly,  are  you  getting  ready  to  go  with  rne  to  Ole  Yir- 
ginny  ?"  And  then,  as  if  to  relieve  himself  of  an  embarrassment, 
he  seized  upon  one  of  our  little  brothers  who  was  running 
through  the  drawing-room,  and  sang  him 

"  The  sea  was  so  broad  and  the  land  was  so  narrow, 
lie  was  forced  to  bring  his  wife  home  in  a  wheel-barrow." 

"  When  do  you  talk  of  going,  Max  ?"  said  I. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  143 

"  Not  until  the  spring,"  he  answered.  "  There  will  be  busi 
ness  arrangements  to  attend  to  here ;  besides  which,  winter  is 
hardly  the  time  to  be  in  that  part  of  America.  They  never 
shut  a  door  my  father  says,  in  '  ole  Virginny.'  I  shall  apply  for 
six  months  leave  of  absence  from  next  March,  and  I  hope,"  he 
added  seriously,  "  that  you  intend  to  accompany  me." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  I  in  the  objective  case.  "  It  is  a  long- 
journey,  and  I  feel  very  little  interest  in  Virginia.  I  hardly 
know  enough  of  our  relations  over  the  Ridge  to  invest  them 
with  any  personality." 

"Yes — but  my  dear  child  travelling  will  do  you  good.  I 
have  been  talking  with  the  governor  about  it."  And  then  pass 
ing  his  arm  about  my  waist,  "  my  dear,  little  sister,"  said  he,  "  I 
think  about  your  trouble  a  great  deal,  for  as  you  know,  Molly," 
.  and  his  voice  became  pretty  serious,  "  I  had  a  touch  of  the 
same  fever  several  years  ago  myself,  about  Lady  Ellen  Macln- 
tyre." 

"  Yes,  Max — and  since  you  profess  to  have  been  cured  of  that, 
you  never  seem  to  me  quite  the  dear  fellow  that  you  used  to  be. 
You  make  fun  of  women.  You  never  seem  to  trust  us,  or  to 

think  we  are  sincere,  or " 

"  It  is  the  experience  of  life,  Molly.  I  was  glad  when  I.  met 
Lady  Ellen  at  court  last  spring,  that  Colin  jNasmyth  and  not  I 
had  married  that  showy,  heartless  woman.  You  think  me  a 
harum-scarum,  flirting  sort  of  fellow — as  I  am — but  there  are 
better  things  in  me  which  a  good  wife  might  bring  out.  I  should 
be  a  worse  man,  too,  if  I  had  not  had  a  good  sister.  There  are 
plenty  of  quiet  moments  when  I  sigh  for  better  things,  and  feel," 
(he  turned  his  face  away  and  his  voice  fell  to  a  whisper)  "  that 
I  should  like  to  have  a  dear,  little,  good"  homekeeping  wife — 
somebody  who  would  love  me,  somebody  it  was  my  duty  to  love." 


144  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  I  love  you  dearly — darling  Max,"  said  I. 

Max  smiled.  "  I  want  to  be  loved  best,"  be  said.  "  People 
marry  and  alter,  and  go  away,  and  throw  you  over,  and  there  is 
no  stability  for  a  man  except  in  the  affections  of  his  own 
home." 

Thus  saying,  he  took  up  a  ball  of  sewing  cotton,  stuck  the 
points  of  my  scissors  through  it,  and  cut  several  yards  of  it  with 
deliberate  care  and  measurement  into  useless  shreds.  "  I  will 
tell  you  who  I  think  was  quite  sincere  " — he  said  at  length — 
"  that  is  Veronica.  Somehow  nobody  can  go  to  Castleton  with 
out  missing  her.  Her  pleasant  laugh,  and  pretty  ways  were  like 
the  sunshine  of  the  place.  The  people  about  there  are  for  ever 
telling  me  of  all  her  little  kindnesses — and  Miss  Alicia  (she 
is  a  good  soul,  Miss  Alicia)  used  to  talk  to  me  of  her.  There 
was  a  bundle  of  her  letters  written  to  cousin  Lomax,  as  dear, 
pretty,  womanly  little  letters  as  you  could  see — with  plenty  of 
good  sense  in  them.  They  seemed  to  bring  her  back  to  me 
as  in  old  times,  with  her  pleasant,  quick  way  of  doubling  upon  you 
with  some  sauciness,  when  she  fancied  she  had  been  showing  too 
much  feeling.  I  took  the  little  bundle  down  to  the  old  boat, 
and  pushed  out  into  the  pond  and  looked  them  over.  The  old 
swannies  came  sailing  round  the  boat  as  if  they  thought  she  ought 
to  be  there  too,  and  I  could  not  help  promising  the  old  couple 
that  I  would  do  my  best  to  bring  her  back  again.  Somehow 
the  old  place  got  a  more  inhabited  look  after  I  imagined  her 
*•  return  there.  I  cannot  tell  you,"  he  went  on  to  say,  "  how  glad 
I  am  that  I  feel  thus  about  it.  I  would  not  have  sold  myself  to 
any  woman  I  did  not  like,  even  to  own  Castleton ;  and  now  I 
will  confess  to  you  that  if  cousin  Lomax  had  left  me  the  estate 
without  restriction,  I  should  have  gone  to  Virginia  and  offered 
myself  to  Veronica." 


O  C  II      COUSIN      V  K  K  O  N  I  G  A  .  145 

After  a  pause,  and  the  destruction  of  more  thread,  "  you  are 
pretty  sure  she  used  to  like  me,  Molly  ?"  said  he. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  it,  dear  Max — I  could  give  you  twenty 
proofs  of  her  regard  for  you." 

"  She  acted  a  very  generous  part,"  said  he.  "  It  was  a  noble 
thing  of  her  to  go  away,  especially  if  she  cared  so  much  for  such 
a  good-for-nothing  scamp  as  me — poor  little  soul !  Do  you  think 
that  I  can  win  her  now  ?"  And  he  threw  a  glance  into  the  mirror 
at  his  own  handsome  face  and  soldierly  figure.  "  Does  she  often 
write  to  you,  Molly  ?" 

"  Not  very  often — and  her  letters  are  quite  short.  She  is 
living  at  Clairmont  with  aunt  Edmonia." 

"  You you  don't  think  there  are  '  other  Richmonds  in  the 

field  ?' "  said  Max.  "  You  do  not  think  she  favors  any  other  lover  ?" 

"  I  cannot  think  she  does.  There  is  no  indication  in  her 
letters  that  she  cares  for  any  one  in  Virginia." 

"  Well,"  said  Max,  smiling,  "  cousin  Lomax's  earnest  wishes 
for  our  marriage  almost  defeated  their  own  object.  And  I  wish 
he  had  not  tied  us  down.  The  will  has  made  quite  a  sensation 
in  the  parish.  They  all  know  that  I  am  going  to  Virginia. 
Won't  the  old  chimes  ring  out  a  merry  peal  the  day  I  bring  her 
back  there «" 

Max  spent  a  good  deal  of  the  winter  at  Castleton.  Not  as  its 
proprietor,  but  as  agent  of  the  executors  of  the  will,  Governor 
Tyrell  and  our  father.  Still  he  felt  himself  the  master  of  the 
place,  and  everybody  considered  him  so.  I  was  with  him  part 
of  the  winter.  He  gave  up  hunting  and  his  boisterous  tastes, 
and  liked  nothing  so  well  as  talking  to  me,  or  to  kind,  prosy 
Miss  Alicia,  about  Veronica.  He  went  over  all  the  old  rides  and 
walks  they  used  to  take  together.  The  trees  were  leafless,  and 
the  ploughed  fields  bare.  "  I'll  tell  you  what,  Molly,"  said  he, 

7 


14G  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"I  have  a  great  mind  to  ask  her  to  be  married  in  the  summer, 
and  then  she  will  come  back  here  when  the  place  is  in  its 
beauty.  Can  I  persuade  her  to  be  married  in  July,  do  you  sup 
pose,  or  will  the  wedding  finery  take  too  much  preparation  2" 

The  old  hound  was  alive,  and  Max  used  to  go  and  pat  it  for 
her  sake,  for  it  never  left  the  stable  after  she  went  away.  He  set 
me  to  work  in  the  village  to  find  out  her  old  pensioners. 
The  women  dropped  courtesies  as  we  went  through  the  hamlet, 
and  made  bold  to  ask  "when  Mrs.  Mandeville  might  be 
expected  at  the  Hall." 

Max  laughed  out  heartily  the  first  time  that  this  was  said  to 
him,  and  gave  the  old  woman  who  said  it  half  a  crown.  Of 
course,  after  that  he  was  constantly  subject  to  the  inquiry. 

The  old  gardener  had  an  order  to  get  his  grounds  trimmed 
up,  and  have  every  thing  as  Miss  Veronica  liked  it  by  the  begin 
ning  of  the  summer.  lie  was  constantly  touching  his  hat  to 
Max,  and  saying  this  or  that  was  his  "lady's  fancy."  And 
Max  had  confidential  consultations  with  him  about  the  tastes 
of  Veronica. 

"  Take  a  lesson  from  me  Moll,"  he  said,  when  he  found  me  cry 
ing  by  myself  ore  day.  "A  man  does  not  know  what  is  good 
for  him.  I  can  never  be  thankful  enough  that  I  am  going  to 
marry  a  quiet  good  wife,  who.ui  every  body  loves,  rather  than 
my  old  flame  Lady  Ellen.  She  never  would  have  liked  a  country 
life,  and  is  leading  her  husband  a  pretty  dance  of  fashion." 

At  last  the  spring  opened.  My  heart  ached  at  the  thought 
of  setting  the  Atlantic  between  myself  and  him  who  occupied 
my  thoughts,  but  Max  was  in  the  highest  spirits — made  light  of 
the  perils  of  the  deep,  and  rallied  me. 

I  had  several  letters  from  Mr.  Howard.  I  did  not  know  but 
that  I  ought  to  send  them  back  to  him,  and  carried  t\em  hon- 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  147 

estly  to  my  father — who  did  not  exact  the  sacrifice.  He  only 
said  that  lie  was  glad  I  was  going  out  of  the  reach  of  ..that  folly. 
I  received  one  in  Liverpool,  and  happy  in  the  possession  of  its 
loving  words,  I  was  rocked  to  sleep  on  the  first  night  of  our  voy 
age — the  great  ship  panting  remorselessly  upon  her  way,  putting 
thirteen  knots  between  us  every  hour. 

It  blew  that  first  night — and  as  I  lay  upon  my  narrow  shelf, 
listening  to  the  creaking,  and  the  straining  of  her  tiller  ropes 
and  bulkheads,  and  all  her  other  thousand  noises,  and  heard 

The  beating  of  her  restless  heart 
Still  sounding  through  the  storm, 

I  prayed  to  God  to  make  me  happy.  A  girl's  prayer !  And  He 
"  whose  way  is  in  the  sea,  and  whose  paths  in  the  great  waters, 
and  whose  footsteps  are  not  known,"  was  drawing  near,  although 
I  could  not  trace  His  steps,  to  answer  in  the  end  that  vague  peti 
tion.  Like  the  Apostles  James  and  John,  I  "  knew  not  what  I 
asked,"  but  He  Avho  heard  me  gave  my  words  a  meaning. 

Max  was  very  kind  to  me  during  our  voyage.  He  insisted  on 
having  me  a  great  deal  on  deck.  We  used  to  sit  behind  the 
wheel-house,  watching  the  beautiful  wake  of  the  great  swift  ship, 
acqua-marine  and  blue,  and  malachite  and  white,  like  a  glacier 
from  the  Alps,  in  life  and  motion.  Or  we  stood  upon  .ae  pad 
dle-box,  at  night,  and  watched  the  glowing  funnel  with  its  glit 
tering  sparks,  and  the  beautiful  phosphoric  gleams  among  the 
silver  foam,  thrown  off  by  the  great  paddles.  I  was  disappointed 
in  the  beauty  of  the  boundless  oc«an.  The  sea  should  be  looked 
at  with  dry  land  to  stand  on.  And  the  unbroken  world  of 
waters  is  only  beautiful  by  moonlight,  when  a  golden  path  seems 
paved  across  it  to  God's  sapphire  throne, — or  rather  when  each 
glittering  wave  becomes  a  link  of  the  celestial  chain  let  down  to 
earth  out  of  the  starry  sky. 


148  OUR.      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

The  discomforts  of  our  life  below  were  wonderfully  great.  As 
I  lay  in  my  berth,  almost  without  life,  during  the  first  few 
days  of  our  voyage,  I  had  just  Avits  enough  left  to  wonder 
vaguely  whether  a  personal  reminiscence  of  sea-sickness  had 
animated  the  Psalmist,  when  in  the  course  of  his  description  of 
the  perils  and  deliverances  of  those  "  who  go  down  to  the  sea  in 
ships  and  occupy  their  business  in  great  waters,"  he  said,  "  Their 
soul  abhorred  all  manner  of  meat,  and  they  were  even  hard 
at  death's  door." 

After  a  few  days  I  was  again  on  deck,  enjoying  the  daily 
doings  of  the  little  world  around  me;  accepting  kind  attentions 
from  the  gentlemen — learning  helplessness  as  became  a  semi- 
American  female  (for  short  frocks  and  pantalettes  were  in  that 
day  the  legitimate  dress  of  the  present  race  of  Bloomer ) ;  but 
what  I  liked  best  was  to  have  long  talks  with  Max.  I  was 
admitted  more  fully  into  his  character  and  confidence  than  I  had 
ever  been  before.  I  saw  that  under  -a  rattling  exterior  he  had 
good  sense,  deep  feeling,  and  a  generous  temper ;  and  our  chats 
upon  the  poop,  however  they  might  begin,  always  ended  in  confi 
dential  whispers  about  Veronica. 

"Wh at  will  strike  me  most  on  landing?"  said  I  off  Sandy- 
Hook,  to  an  agreeable  New  Yorker. 

"  You  will  be  first  struck  with  our  national  costume,"  was  his 
answer.  "  It  is  calculated  that  there  are  in  the  United  States 
about  two  millions  of  white  males  of  years  and  means  sufficient 
to  entitle  them  to  wear  'waistcoats,' — as  you  call  them.  Of 
these  two  millions,  1,999,000  wear  them  of  black  satin." 

We  had  left  England  before  the  spring  had  put  on  her  mantle, 
and  I  never  can  forget  the  glory  of  the  greenness  of  Staten 
Island  and  the  heights  of  Hoboken,  as  we  went  into  the  harbor 
of  New  York  through  the  Narrows. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  149 

We  had  no  motive  to  linger  in  New  York,  and  so  soon  as  our 
luggage  could  be  rescued  from  the  Custom  House,  we  set  out 
for  Baltimore.  We  passed  the  night  in  Philadelphia.  The 
United  States'  Bank  had  failed  recently,  and  the  city  (never  a 
very  lively  one)  was  the  abomination  of  desolation.  We  walked 
about  the  streets  feeling  ourselves  aliens  in  the  land  of  our 
fathers — with  none  to  bid  us  welcome,  where  half  a  century 
earlier  our  relatives  had  been  the  great  men  of  the  day. 

We  stood  before  the  superb  marble  structure  left  desolate  by 
the  failure  of  the  United  States'  Bank.  I  was  delighted  with  its 

o 

pure  Greek  architecture,  and  asked  Max  what  it  was  copied 
from  ?  He  answered  in  a  whisper,  "  from  the  Temple  of  Mer 
cury,  with  modern  improvements." 

My  spirits  rose  as  we  went  out  of  Philadelphia.  Each  rail 
road  car  was  in  that  day  drawn  to  the  outer  Depot  through  the 
streets  by  six  magnificent  grey  horses.  All  the  railroad  arrange 
ments  seemed  so  very  queer ! — especially  the  carriages  them 
selves,  long  omnibus-shaped  cars,  holding  sixty  persons  seated 
two  and  two  on  horse-hair  benches,  the  conductor  walking  up 
and  down  the  aisle  ;  the  noise  precluding  any  genial  social  feel 
ing,  or  cheery  travelling  intercourse  among  us.  Every  man  sat 
grimly  in  his  place,  with  his  ticket  in  his  hat-band.  Nobody 
was  travelling  for  pleasure,  but  going  straight  ahead  towards  a 
predetermined  destination.  And  every  man  "  aboard  the  cars  " 
was  doubtless  thinking  the  same  things  he  would  have  thought 
sitting  at  home  in  his  store,  or  in  his  counting-room. 

After  leaving  Philadelphia  I  missed  the  candy  boys,  who 
the  day  before  had  astonished  me  as  they  plied  their  trade  among 
us.  Great  bearded  men  were  grimly  buying  their  variegated 
wares  and  craunching  candy,  not  flattering  the  palate  by  sucking 
it  deliberately.  The  consumption  of  peppermint,  clnckobeny, 


150  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

sassafras,  crude  apples,  and  lozenges,  by  adult  travellers  in  the 
New  England  railway  cars  (or  States  that  border  on  New  Eng 
land),  is  quite  a  feature  in  Trans- Atlantic  travelling.  Around 
every  Legislative  Hall  that  I  have  visited  in  the  Eastern  States 
— little  boys  hawk  rolls  of  lozenges  for  the  refreshment  of  the 
legislators.  I,  as  a  Briton,  of  course,  had  a  provision  of  ham 
sandwiches  in  my  travelling  bag. 

It  was  so  strange  to  me  to  find  the  railroads  unenclosed ;  to 
hear  the  whistle  blown  to  frighten  cattle  off  the  track,  and  to 
know  that  ahead  of  the  engine  we  had  a  "  cow-catcher !"  It 
made  me  nervous  to  be  running  at  half-speed  through  the  centre 
of  small  towns  where  rails  were  laid  down  in  the  main  streets, 
without  any  sort  of  fencing  or  protection. 

When  we  came  to  the  Great  Gunpowder,  Max  called  me  out 
to  look  at  it.  We  were  crossing  a  shallow,  muddy  stream,  about 
a  mile  and  a  half  in  width,  but  not  on  anything  that  could  be 
called  a  bridge.  Piles  had  been  driven  about  three  feet  apart 
into  the  river's  bed,  and  rails  were  laid  on  top  of  them  !  And 
so  it  continues  till  this  day  (no  accident  having  ever  happened 
at  that  spot),  upon  the  principal  trunk  line  of  railway  between 
the  Atlantic  cities. 

I  was  astonished  when  we  crossed  the/  Susquehannah,  to 
notice  with  what  business-like  celerity  the  American  officials 
effected  every  change.  Instead  of  a  distracted  hunt  for  baggage 
at  every  stopping-place  or  break  of  gauge,  which  I  had  been 
accustomed  to  in  England,  the  admirable  check  system  of 
America  left  the  traveller  unconcerned  about  his  trunks  until 
their  safe  delivery  at  the  end  of  his  journey. 

Soon  after  crossing  the  Susquehannah,  the  appearance  of  the 
country  changed.  The  dazzling  white  houses  looking  as  if  cut 
out  of  card-board,  sharp  and  uniform  (Grecian  temples  with 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  151 

green  blinds),  gave  place  to  low  log-cabins  with  mud  chimneys — 
neat  fencing  to  the  hideous  worm  fence;  or  in  many  instances 
to  fences  made  of  the  roots  of  trees.  I  would  as  soon  see  an 
emerald  of  price  set  with  the  roots  of  teeth,  as  such  an  enclosure 
round  a  meadow.  Max,  who  had  been  standing  on  the  platform 
with  the  conductor,  came  and  touched  me.  "  We  have  fairly 
crossed  Mason  and  Dixon's  line,"  said  he.  "Delaware  was 
hardly  a  slave  state,  but  we  are  now  in  Maryland." 

How  I  shrank  from  the  black  figures  in  short,  ragged  petti 
coats,  which  offered  apples  for  sale  at  the  next  stopping-place  ! 
How  I  looked  with  a  compassion  they  would  not  have  under 
stood,  into  their  black,  shiny,  nonchalante  broad  faces — and 
shuddered  at  the  thought  that  they  were  slaves. 

Our  journey  was  beautiful  through  the  Maryland  woods ; 
where,  however,  the  crowding  prevented  any  development  on 
the  part  of  individual  trees.  The  effect  of  the  early  verdure  of 
the  forest  foliage,  contrasted  with  the  bright  tints  of  the  flower 
ing  shrubs  which  spread  like  underwood  beneath  the  trees  of 
larger  growth  was  new  to  me  and  very  pleasing.  I  was  sorry 
in  spite  of  the  publicity  of  such  travelling,  and  its  manifold  dis 
comforts,  when  our  car  was  again  harnessed  to  six  handsome 
horses,  and  we  were  dragged  through  a  long  mile  of  suburban 
streets  into  the  dark  "Old  Depot,"  in  the  heart  of  Baltimore. 

My  impressions  de  -voyage  are  nearly  over.  Bear  with  me 
while  I  say  one  word  about  the  Monumental  City.  I  walked 
with  Max,  that  evening  into  Franklin  Street,  Cathedral  Street, 
and  Park  Street.  The  night  was  clear,  the  moon  was  bright  as 
daylight,  and  the  marble  fronts  of  the  superb  aristocratic-looking 
detached  houses,  glittered  in  her  beams  with  singular  advantage. 
I  thought  Baltimore — and  think  her  now — the  very  Queen  of 
the  Atlantic  Cities.  In  1842,  there  were  but  one  or  two  half- 


152  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

finished  streets  of  tins  singular  beauty.  In  1855  miles  of  new 
streets,  as  wide,  as  marbled,  and  as  handsome,  stretched  beyond 
them,  over  lands  which,  at  the  time  of  which  I  Avrite,  were  coun 
try  farms,  or  nursery  grounds,  or  virgin  woods.  Imagination 
keeps  no  pace  with  the  growth  of  an  American  city.  Fancy 
toils  breathless  after  statistics  and  finds  herself  behind  the  truth, 
even  when  she  thought  she  had  been  dealing  in  hyperbole. 

But  the  glory  of  Baltimore  is  not  in  her  streets  of  marble 
palaces,  but  in  those  streets  which  contain  the  dwellings  of  her 
poor.  Broad,  airy,  wholesome  and  well  paved ;  each  tiny  house 
with  its  white  doorsteps  and  green  blinds,  and  alley  leading  to 
the  yard  behind,  is  a  mechanic's  home.  The  squalid  back 
streets  of  New  York  or  Boston,  or  the  hideous  Black  Quarter  of 
Philadelphia,  are  as  horrible  as  Saffron  Hill  or  Monmouth  Street, 
or  old  St.  Giles;  but  Baltimore  would  be  the  joy  of  Dr.  South- 
wood  Smith,  or  any  other  Good  Samaritan  devoted  to  that 
branch  of  philanthropy  which  I  believe  is  more  than  any  other 
to  work  permanent  good — the  construction  of  decent  dwellings 
as  the  houses  of  the  working  classes,  or  Model  Lodging  Houses 
for  the  more  destitute  poor. 

We  had  another  stage  to  make  to  complete  our  journey,  and 
the  next  day  took  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad,  winding 
along  the  banks  of  the  Patapscu,  through  corn-land  and  wood 
land,  high  rocks,  covered  with  flowers  of  all  hues,  on  either  side 
of  us,  or  the  silvery  foaraing  waters  of  the  river  that  we  crossed 
and  re-crossed,  hastening  over  shoals  and  rapids  to  the  sea. 

When  we  neared  Harper's  Ferry,  Max,  by  especial  permission 
of  the  conductor,  took  me  outside  upon  the  platform,  and  aston 
ished  me  by  showing  me  how  the  road  was  scooped  under  an 
overhanging  mass  of  rock.  There  was  not  a  foot  of  spare  space, 
it  seemed  to  me,  from  the  right  hand  car  window  to  the  .blasted 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  153 

wall  of  rock,  nor  more  upon  the  left  hand  to  the  Chesapeake 
and  Ohio  Canal,  which  ran  along  the  bank  of  the  Potomac  at 
the  very  margin  of  the  river.  Such  railway  work  was  awful — 
was  wonderful !  Ten  miles  beyond  the  Point  of  Rocks,  Harper's 
Ferry  opened  on  our  view.  Yonder  on  the  other  shore  of  the 
Potomac  was  Virginia,  where  the  great  smooth,  rounded  moun 
tain  swells  out  of  the  river  into  a  mighty  cone,  washed  at  its 
base  by  both  the  Potomac  and  the  Shenandoah.  The  old  Ferry 
is  now  crossed  by  iron  railway  tracks.  As  we  thundered  into 
the  Depot,  under  a  wooden  covered  way,  the  conductor  told  us 
that  that  spot  was  the  Gretna  Green  of  the  Valley  of  Virginia. 

We  left  the  cars  at  Harper's  Ferry,  and  as  I  was  standing- 
bewildered  on  a  fork  of  the  bridge  belonging  to  the  Winchester 
and  Potomac  Railway,  dreading  the  sudden  coming  of  some 
wandering  locomotive,  while  Max  with  his  great  coat  over  his 
arm  was  hurrying  up  a  negro  porter  with  our  baggage,  a  gentle 
man  passed  along  the  platform  who  excited  my  attention. 

He  looked  at  me  earnestly  for  a  moment,  then  at  Max.  His 
look  was  a  little  uncertain  and  troubled,  but  the  cloud  on  his 
face  cleared  off,  the  sunshine  broke  out  warmly,  and  with  a 
pleasant  smile  he  came  forward  to  greet  us.  I  had  known  him 
at  once ;  it  was  our  cousin  Tyrell. 

He  said  that  our  letters  from  New  York  had  not  been  received 
at  Clairmont,  and  that  our  relations  were  uncertain  what  day  we 
should  arrive,  so  that  he  feared  there  would  be  no  carriage  nor 
cousins  at  the  Depot  looking  out  for  us. 

"  Oh  !  Max,"  said  I,  "  we  had  better  wait  here  a  few  days,  and 
send  them  word.  Perhaps  they  have  not  room  for  us.  I  should 
not  like  to  take  them  by  surprise  if  they  are  not  expecting 
us." 

Cousin  Tyrell  laughed  out  heartily.  "My  fair  cousin  Molly," 

7* 


154  o  r  K    COUSIN    VERONICA. 

said  he,  "  is  not  so  good  a  Virginian  as  she  ought  to  be,  or  she 
would  know  that  our  houses  and  hearts  are  inexhaustible  in 
their  capacity.  A  Virginian  has  a  welcome  for  any  friend  at 
any  moment.  Your  Clairmont  cousins  would  never  forgive  the 
slight  you  put  upon  their  hospitality,  were  you  to  carry  out  your 
plan  of  spending  the  night  at  Harper's  Ferry.  I  '11  send  a  boy 
on  horseback  from  the  Charlestown  Depot,  and  give  them  half 
an  hour's  notice  of  our  coming." 

Tyrell  was  the  first  person  we  had  seen  since  we  left  England 
who  was  not  a  strano-er,  and  I  clung  to  him  in  all  confidence  as 

O          '  O 

thougii  he  had  been  a  dear  old  friend. 

He  took  us  into  the  hotel,  and  wanted  us  to  get  some  dinner 
at  the  Ordinary,  but  my  appetite  was  taken  away  by  the  crash 
and  rush  and  scramble  and  din.  I  shrank  back  from  the  door 
to  the  diversion  of  Tyrell.  "  I  have  some  dinner  in  my  bag," 
said  I,  "  and  had  much  rather  eat  it  quietly." 

"  Can  you  climb  ?"  said  Tyrell.  "  We  might  go  up  to  Jeffer 
son's  Rock  and  improvise  a  pic-nic.  You  have  two  hours  to 
wait  for  the  Winchester  train." 

"What!  the  rock  from  whence  Mr.  Jefferson  saw  the  view 
that  he  said  it  was  worth  crossing  the  Atlantic  to  get  a  glimpse 
of?" 

"The  same. Will  you  try  it?" 

"By  all  means,"  said  I.  So  we  went  forth,  piloted  by  Tyrell. 
The  way  was  pretty  steep,  though  we  went  up  at  a  smart  pace  ; 
but  Tyrell  carried  my  bag,  and  he  and  Max  helped  me  and 
encouraged  me. 

"  Have  you  forgotten  our  ramble  through  the  woods  ? — Do 
you  remember  Castle  ton,  and  its  pretty  lake  ?"  I  said,  as  we 
paused  breathless  on  the  height  above  the  Arsenal. 

"  Of  course —  of  course,"  said  he. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  155 

"  And  Veronica  ?"  said  I.  "  You  have  not  told  me  anything 
about  Veronica.  Is  she  very  much  changed  ?" 

"  Veronica  is  staying  at  Clairmont,"  said  cousin  Tyrell.  "  If  you 
stand  this  way,  Miss  Molly,  you  may  see  Washington's  Head,  on 
that  hill  on  the  Maryland  side  of  the  Potomac.  There !  don't 
you  see  his  cocked  hat  ?" 

In  the  excitement  of  trying  to  do  the  impossible  thing — to 
make  out  a  fanciful  outline,  clear  to  the  eyes  of  another  person, 
I  forgot  the  string  of  questions  I  had  been  about  to  put  to  him 
about  Veronica. 

"We  mounted  the  steep  grassy  summit  of  the  hill,  and  the 
whole  glory  of  the  view  broke  suddenly  upon  us.  The  Shenan- 
doah  and  the  Potomac  lay  glittering  at  our  feet — the  "  abound 
ing  and  rejoicing"  rivers.  The  Shenandoah  pouring  its  waters 
into  the  Potomac,  seemed  to  have  cloven  its  outlet  through  the 
hill  on  which  we  stood,  and  rushed  impetuously  over  shoals  and 
rapids,  sparkling  and  glistering  with  silver  foam  into  the  embrace 
of  her  sister  river.  The  Potomac,  too,  had  cleft  its  way  through 
a  spur  of  the  Blue  Ridge.  All  around  the  Ferry  were  high, 
steep  hills  (mountains  almost),  overhanging  the  water,  which 
opened  broadly  out  into  a  sort  of  bay,  now  lying  glad  and  glit 
tering  in  noon-day  sunshine,  blue,  touched  with  silver  where  the 
Avater's  course  Avas  ruffled  by  the  rapids.  These  rapids  extended 
nearly  half  a  mile,  commencing  about  a  mile  below  Harper's 
Ferry.  The  Avhole  surface  of  the  river  Avas  covered  with  masses 
of  rock.  AA'hich  I  ha\re  since  seen  shoAvino-  aboAre  Avater,  Avhen  the 

O 

stream  Avas  low,  but  this  was  the  season  of  spring  freshets,  and 
they  Avere  nearly  all  submerged,  their  only  sign  the  dash  of  the 
Avhite  spray  made  by  the  Avater  foaming  over  them. 

"  Are  these  rivers  navigable,  cousin  Tyrell  ?"  said  I. 

"  Formerly,"  he  ansAvered,  "  they  were  navigable  for  flat  hot- 


156  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

tomed  boats,  built  expressly  for  navigating  these  waters,  and  all 
the  produce  of  the  Valley  passed  this  way.  Before  our  Revolu 
tionary  War,  there  was  a  company  of  gentlemen,  at  the  head  of 
whom  were  your  great  grandfather  and  General  Washington,  who 
obtained  a  charter  for  the  Colonies  of  Maryland  and  Virginia, 
for  improving  the  navigation  of  the  Potomac — their  highway  to 
the  sea.  At  that  time  many  boatmen  were  employed  upon  the 
river,  a  hardy  adventurous  class,  resembling  the  Canadian 
Voyageurs,  though  Tom  Moore  wrote  no  song  for  them.  The 
boats  they  used  were  built  somewhat  after  the  fashion  of  the 
gondolas  of  Venice,  from  which  they  took  their  name,  corrupted 
by  the  boatmen  into  gunlows.  It  is  an  expression  still  familiar 
»n  this  neighborhood." 

Here  Tyrell  paused  and  added,  pointing  down  the  river : — 
"  Many  a  fine  boat  has  been  stove  among  these  treacherous  rocks 
and  boiling  currents,  and  many  a  fine  fellow  has  been  drowned 
there." 

I  shuddered.  "I  do  not  like  to 'connect  ideas  of  death  and 
danger  with  a  scene  like  this.  Those  noble  streams  and  moun 
tains  draped  with  woods,  and  the  blue  sky,  with  its  faint  golden 
haze,  and  the  living  sparkling  beauty  of  everything  around  us, 
seem  to  me  so  full  of  joy  and  of  the  promise  of  gladness." 

"  Yes,  but  there  are  often  things  concealed  under  the  smiles 
of  nature.  There  are  few  things  in  the  world  without  associa 
tions  of  sadness.  I  am  glad  to  believe,  however,  that  your  life 
has  never  known  the  chill  that  comes  over  us  when  the  sun 
withdraws  himself." 

Then  changing  his  tone,  he  repeated  in  his  full,  rich  voice, 
the  feeling  of  the  moment  adding  to  its  sweetness,  a  verse 
from  Longfellow's  "Wreck  of  the  Hesperus,"  then  just  pub 
lished  : — 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  157 

"  She  struck  where  the  white  and  fleecy  waves 

Looked  soft  as  carded  wool, 
But  the  cruel  rocks  they  gored  her  sides 
Like  the  horns  of  an  angry  bull." 

Max  joined  in  the  conversation  with  some  talk  about  American 
poetry.  I  opened  my  bag  and  spread  our  feast  upon  the  rock. 
Tyrell  gathered  me  a  sprig  of  a  small,  modest,  yellow  wild 
flower,  to  grace  our  dinner  table. 

"  Oh  !"  said  I,  "  it  is  the  pleasantest  thing  I  have  seen  since  I 
landed.  It  reminds  me  of  home.  It  is  an  English  pimpernel." 

And  I  kissed  the  little  blossom.  The  tears  came  into  my  eyes. 
It  was  dear  to  me,  and  I  rejoiced  over  it.  Tyrell  stood  watching 
me  with  his  penetrating  look,  and  his  grave,  kindly  smile. 

"  Join  to  the  English  remembrance,  that  has  made  it  dear," 
he  said,  "  the  thought  that  it  is  the  first  flower  gathered  for  you 
on  the  soil  of  Old  Virginia." 

I  gave  it  another  kiss  when  he  said  that,  and  hid  the  modest, 
yellow  first-fruits  in  my  bosom. 


158  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Honor  to  him  who  first  "  through  the  impassable  paves  a  road." 

CARLTLE.    Death  of  Goethe. 

• 

WE  came  gaily  down  the  mountain  when  our  dinner  was 
done,  and  were  soon  travelling  along  the  banks  of  the  Shen- 
andoah,  in  the  slow  Winchester  train.  The  beautiful  green 
maize  was  about  a  foot  high  in  the  fields  on  either  side  the  rail 
road.  I  remarked  at  once  a  change  of  countenance  among  our 
fellow  passengers.  The  dress  of  most  of  them  was  extremely 
seedy,  though  Tyrell  pointed  out  several  as  large  landed  proprie 
tors;  but  there  was  something  in  the  air  and  manner  of  these  men 
which  irresistibly  attracted  me.  There  was  something  native  to 
the  soil  (something  Indian)  about  the.m ;  in  their  tread,  and  in 
their  height ;  in  their  prominent  nose,  with  the  thin  nostrils ; 
and  above  all  in  their  foreheads,  strongly  perceptive,  but  without 
the  reflective  fullness  which  indicates  severe  habits  of  abstract 
thought.  All  wore  their  hair,  which  was  mostly  black  and 
long,  brushed  back  from  their  temples.  Many  were  men  yet  in 
the  prime  of  life  who  were  prematurely  grey.  All  were  spare, 
sallow,  and  sinewy.  There  were  some  men  "  mountain  men," 
as  Tyrell  told  me,  dressed  in  coarse  green  frieze,  looking  as  wild 
as  untamed  colts — the  roughest  people  both  in  manners  and 
appearance  amongst  whom  I  had  been  ever  thrown ;  disgusting 
in  their  habits — but  indeed  to  say  the  truth,  shewing  tobacco 


OUK     COtfSIN     VERONICA.  159 

seemed  to  be  the  error  of  even  the  most  aristocratic-looking  men 
among  our  passengers.  There  was  one,  a  little  "  tight,"  as  Tyrell 
called  it,  who  persisted  in  quarrelling  with  the  conductor. 
"  Well,  sir,"  said  this  functionary,  "  I  refer  you  to  Mr.  Tyrell,  son  of 
Governor  Tyrell,  of  Stonehenge.  There  is  not  a  man  who  stands 
higher  in  general  estimation  in  our  section  of  the  country.  You 
may  ask  Mr.  Tyrell  if  I  am  charging  you  more  than  the  ordinary 
rate  for  your  passage." 

The  other  muttered  something  about  "  d — d  dear,  and  d — d 
bad  travelling  on  that  line  of  railway." 

"By  no  means,  sir,"  said  the  conductor,  confidently,  "Mr. 
Tyrell  will  inform  you.  I  appeal  to  Mr.  Tyrell." 

"  He  is  right,  sir,  he  has  asked  you  only  the  legal  fare,  "  said 
Tyrell,  gravely,  but  with  a  gleam  of  mischief  in  his  eye,  "  I  con 
sider  this  the  cheapest  railroad  in  the  United  States,  without  any 
exceptions. 

"There,  sir! — I  told  you  so,"  said  the  conductor,  as  the 
defaulter  sullenly  pulled  out  his  pocket-book  and  paid  the 
money. 

Several  gentlemen  had  gathered  round  Tyrell,  who  turned  to 
them  with  a  funny  look.  "  I  really  do,"  said  he.  "  It  is  the 
only  railroad  that  I  know  of,  on  which  you  can  travel  all  day 
for  the  small  sum  of  two  dollars." 

A  great  loud  hearty  laugh  exploded  through  the  cars.  Tyrell 
was  evidently  a  great  and  privileged  favorite.  Even  this  face 
tious  observation,  which  they  relished  very  much,  did  not  impair 
his  dignity.  The  "  roughest  customer  "  treatedhim  with  respect, 
though  more  or  less  he  seemed  to  have  a  passing  acquaintance 
with  every  one  about  him.  Several  of  the  landed  proprietors 
gathered  round  our  seat  and  asked  Tyrell  to  introduce  them  to 
us.  Earn  of  thorn  hoped  I  should  decide  on  making  Virginia 


160  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

my  residence,  and  promised  me  a  choice  of  lovers!  Such 
speeches  were  so  contrary  to  the  taste  of  the  society  in  which  I 
had  been  bred,  that  I  was  a  little  uncertain  how  to  receive  them. 
"  As  for  you,  sir,"  said  one  or  two  of  them  to  Max,  "  we  hear  you 
are  coming  out  here  to  court  one  of  our  most  distinguished 
Virginia  belles.  We  think  she  must  have  left  her  heart  in 
England,  for  she  never  has  been  known  to  favor  any  of  her 
beaux.  Eh,  Tyrell  ? 

"Miss  Veronica  is  a  prize  worth  striving  for,"  said  Tyrell. 

"  Aye,  indeed,"  said  an  old  gentleman.  "  It  was  thought  at 
one  time  you  were  the  horse  that  was  bound  to  win.  But  I 
don't  know  how  it  was,  I  believe  you  did  not  make  up  to  her. 
"Why  didn't  you  court  her  ?  It  would  have  been  a  first  rate 
match.  If  I  were  a  young  gentleman  I  wouldn't  suffer  such  a 
girl  to  be  carried  out  of  the  Valley  of  Virginia." 

"  Courting  Miss  Veronica  is  mighty  skittish  sort  of  work," 
said  one  of  the  youngest  of  the  party.  "  I  tell  you  it's  like 
catching  mules.  She  don't  give  a  fellow  time  to  get  up  to  her 
before  she's  off,  and  he's  knocked  over  on  his  back,  with 
nothing  to  do  but  to  get  up  and  be  laughed  at,"  and  he  rubbed 
his  shoulders,  as  if  he  well  remembered  such  an  overthrow,  and 
had  not  relished  the  experience. 

"  Let  me  look  out  here,  gentlemen,  if  you  please,"  said  Tyrell, 
"  we  are  just  approaching  Charlestown.  I  want  to  see  if  any  of 
my  boys  are  about." 

The  train  was  slowly  coming  up  to  a  rude  platform,  beside 
which  several  strange  country  carriages  were  waiting.  Tyrell 
looked  out  of  the  window  and  addressing  a  darkey  with  a  shin 
ing  black  face,  wearing  a  singularly  bright  plaid  waistcoat, 
much  too  large  for  him,  cried,  "  Oigh,  Diggory ! — all  right — 
That's  you!" 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  161 

"  Yes,  Mas'r  Jim,"  said  Diggory,  with  a  gleaming  ivory  grin, 
taking  oft'  his  hat  with  a  true  negro  sideways  bow — one  of  the 
cast-ofF  graces  of  the  last  half  century. 

"  Look  you  here,"  said  Tyrell.  "  What  horses  have  you  got 
in  my  buggy  ?  Tom  and  Jerry  f 

"  Yes,  sar." 

"  Well,  take  out  Jerry — do  you  hear  ?  and  tell  somebody  about 
here  to  drive  Tom  and  the  buggy  to  the  inn,  and  send  over  for 
them  before  breakfast  to-morrow  morning.  You  mount  Jerry — 
Are  you  listening?" — Diggory's  eyes  were  rolling  all  about,  and 
had  settled  on  my  face. 

"Yes  sar." 

"Mount  Jerry,  and  ride  as  hard  as  you  can  go  to  Clair- 
mont,  and  tell  your  Miss  Edmonia  that  Captain  and  Miss  Man 
deville,  from  England What  am  I  saying  ?" 

"  Cap'en  'd  Miss  Mandeville  from  England."  Diggory's  eyes 
opened  wider  on  me  than  before. 

"  Captain  and  Miss  Mandeville,  from  England,  will  arrive  at 
Simpson's  Depot  this  afternoon,  and  I  shall  bring  them  over  to 
Clairmont.  N"ow  be  oft'. — Don't  stop  to  watch  the  corn  grow." 

"  I'se  gwine,  Mas'  Jim." 

But  he  stopped  to  point  us  out  to  another  darkey,  and  to  take 
a  wider  stare  at  Max  and  me,  so  as  to  make  his  arrival  accept 
able  at  Clairrnont,  by  carrying  with  him  a  full  description. 

Several  bystanders  came  up  to  look  at  us,  and  I  heard  one  of 
them,  an  old  negro,  in  the  coarse  drab  clothes  worn  by  slaves 
in  Virginia,  say,  "  Laws !  ef  that  ar  ain't  Miss  Vera's  beau — done 
corned  all  de  way  out  of  do  North — way  dar  somewhars,  just 
to  see  Miss  Vera  Lomax.  Mighty  hansum  lookin'  fellar,  any 
how." 

The  speaker  was  pushed  aside  somewhat  rudely,  by  a  tall, 


162  OUR      CO  U  SIX     VERONICA. 

white  man  in  a  long  great-coat,  who  sprang  upon  the  car  plat 
form  just  as  the  train  was  getting  into  motion.  He  looked  about 
him,  stared  at  Max  and  me,  then  came  and  took  a  seat  in  our 
vicinity,  and  touched  his  hat  to  Tyrell,  who  returned  the  saluta 
tion  somewhat  stiffly. 

He  looked  as  if  he  had  been  drinking.  His  eyes  were  wild 
and  his  hair  was  in  disorder.  After  a  few  minutes  he  called  out 
to  Tyrell. 

"  Jim — what's  your  prospect  of  a  corn  crop  ?" 

Cousin  Tyrell  answered  shortly,  but  a  conversation  was 
opened,  and  the  stranger,  looking  me  disagreeably  in  the  face, 
said  :  "  That  young  lady  is  a  relative  of  mine.  She  favors  her 
father's  family  at  Clairmont.  Be  so  good  as  to  introduce  me  to 
my  cousins." 

He  got  up  and  came  beside  me.  Tyrell  was  obliged  to  say, 
"  Mr.  William  Williams,  of  Clarke  County." 

Mr.  Williams  shook  hands  with  us.  Slapping  Max  upon  the 
back,  he  said,  "  I  am  cousin  Veronica's  nearest  male  friend  in 
this  section.  You  will  have  to  apply  for  my  consent  before  you 
marry  into  the  family." 

"  Really,  sir,"  said  Max,  who  had  been  chafing  two  hours 
under  this  kind  of  thing.  "  I  don't  see  what  business  it  is  of 
every  man  I  meet  whether  or  not  I  am  a  suitor  to  my  cousin." 

Will  Williams  laughed  right  out.  "  It's  mighty  particular 
business  of  mine,  I  reckon.  By  the  terms  of  the  will,  if  you 
don't  marry  her  within  a  year,  I  shall  come  in  for  a  slice  of  that 
cake  of  ray  old  uncle's." 

Neither  Tyrell  nor  Max  answered.  I  understood  at  once  that 
this  was  the  son  of  "  Barbara,  wife  of  William  Williams,  Esq.,  of 
Clarke  County,''  and  sister  to  cousin  Lomax,  who  had  never  liked 
her  husband  and  had  had  no  intercourse  with  her. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  163 

"  My  uncle  Lomax  was  a  mighty  queer  old  fellow  in  his  latter 
days,"  said  Mr.  Williams  addressing  me.  I  thought  that  any 
thing  was  better  than  that  he  should  have  any  words  with  Max, 
and  answered  with  some  alacrity  that  he  was  considered  quite 
eccentric,  certainly  ....  when  Tyrell  abruptly  interrupted  me, 
calling  my  attention  to  the  country  on  either  side  of  us. 
Presently  the  train  slowly  came  to  a  full  stop  beside  an  unfin 
ished  looking  frame  house  on  the  edge  of  a  Avood ;  with  a  rough 
boarded  platform,  covered  with  bales  and  flour  barrels.  Tyrell 
looked  out.  "  This  is  the  depot,"  said  he.  "  And  yonder  is 
your  cousin  Philip  Ormsby.  And  there's  old  uncle  Israel  with 
the  carriage.  They  have  got  your  letters  and  are  looking  out 
for  you." 

As  he  said  this,  our  cousin  Philip  disappeared  from  the  plat 
form,  and  a  moment  after  we  saw  him  come  into  the  car,  and 
look  round  dubiously  till  he  caught  sight  of  Tyrell. 

"All  right  Here  we  are!"  said  he;  "come  along,  cousin," 
tucking  my  hand  under  his  arm,  after  shaking  it  violently. 
"  How  d'ee,  cousin  Max.  Everybody  at  home  is  on  the  look 
out  for  you.  Where  did  you  have  the  luck  to  fall  in  with  them, 
cousin  Tyrell  ?" 

So  saying,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  hurried  me  out 
upon  the  platform.  He  was  very  handsome,  very  kindly,  and 
his  manners  very  cordial  and  winning.  His  hair  was  a  little 
rusty,  perhaps,  about  the  ends,  and  his  whiskers  wanted  trim 
ming  ;  there  was  none  of  the  precise  neatness  of  an  English 
gentleman  about  his  dress,  which  was  more  of  an  evening  than 
a  morning  suit,  with  the  eternal  black  waistcoat  forming  part 
of  it,  but  there  was  something  altogether  fascinating  about 
him  ;  and  he  was  quite  the  gentleman.  He  was  six  feet  or 
thereabouts  in  height,  with  a  figure  tall,  agile,  and  well-propor- 


164  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

tioned.  Ills  lace  was  one  a  sculptor  might  have  been  glad  to 
copy  for  some  statue  of  the  young  Acteou  eager  for  the  chase. 
Such  beautiful  brown  eyes,  so  sweet  a  mouth,  a  nose  so  deli 
cately  shaped  I  had  never  seen  before.  His  complexion  was 
very  dark.  Darker  than  that  of  many  a  mulatto  slave  on  plan 
tations  in  that  neighborhood. 

There  was  no  waiting-room,  of  course.  He  carried  me  into 
the  house,  which  was  a  shop  or  store,  and  left  me  leaning  against 
one  of  the  casks,  while  he  went  and  brought  the  carriage.  Such 
a  carriage !  I  did  not  then  know  its  appearance  was  the  pride 
of  dear,  good-natured  cousin  Phil,  who  had  spent  some  hours 
furbishing  it  up  for  so  important  an  occasion  as  the  arrival  of 
English  strangers.  Its  wheels  were  heavy  with  orange-colored 
clay,  and  it  was  spattered  with  blotches  of  red  mud,  from  its 
foot-board  to  its  whiffle-trees. 

When  he  opened  the  door  a  strange  noise  issued  from  inside. 
The  body  of  the  carriage  was  blocked  up  by  a  large  deal  box 
which  gave  forth  an  uncertain  sound. 

"  What  have  you  got  there,  Phil  2"  said  Tyrell. 

"  It's  a  sucking  pig.  Old  Mammy  Venus  wants  a  lot  of  citron, 
mustard,  and  a  vanilla  bean.  They  are  out  of  all  such  truck 
down  at  the  store  in  Fighterstown.  Uncle  Israel  get  this  pig 
out!  Cousin  Molly  don't  be  shocked.  This  isn't  what  you 
have  been  used  to,  I  reckon,  in  the  'marble  halls'  of  Castleton, 
but  you  must  put  up  with  '  corn  bread  and  common  doings,' 
and  'hog  and  hominy' in  all  shapes,  as  cousin  Veronica  has 
done." 

"Here  Uncle  Israel,  a  white  headed  old  negro,  sauntered  slowly 
up  to  us.  "  Uncle  Israel,"  said  Philip,  "  this  is  Miss  Molly  Man- 
deville,  the  lady  I  am  bound  to  marry,  before  she  goes  away.  The 
daughter  of  your  Master  Charles." 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  165 

''Laws,  yes,  Mas'  Phil,"  said  Israel,  holding  out  his  hand. 
"  Wish't  she  would  marry  you  an'  git  fixed  down  among  us.  I 
like  her  face.  Its  real  Mandeville.  I'd  a  knowed  her  any  whars 
for  one  of  the  family.  How  she  do  favor  her  pa." 

I  shook  hands  with  Uncle  Israel,  as  he  seemed  to  expect  it.  I 
put  my  fingers  into  that  great  wrinkled  black  hand,  yellow  in 
the  palm.  I  was  ready  to  wish  the  African  race  all  good,  I  was 
ready  to  desire  immediate  emancipation,  but  I  was  not  prepared 
to  shake  hands  with  a  negro.  I  had  never  shaken  hands  with 
any  of  the  servants  at  home. 

However,  I  got  over  it  after  I  was  seated  in  the  carriage,  and 
was  jolting  over  what,  in  Virginia,  is  called  a  "  dirt  road."  Philip 
was  driving  with  a  great  expenditure  of  exhortation  to  his  ani 
mals.  Max  sat  Avith  him  in  front.  Tyrell  and  I  with  the 
exchange  for  poor  piggy,  in  mustard,  citron,  vanilla  and  other 
spice  occupied  the  interior  of  the  carriage. 

We  wound  doAvn  a  hill.     The  road  was  cut  through  a  stiff 

O 

orange  clay,  and  wound  irregularly  round  fields  protected  by 
worm  fences,  or  ftmnd  its  way  as  it  best  might  through  the  heart 
of  noble  woods  in  all  their  summer  verdure. 

"Don't  be  afraid,  Miss  Molly,"  said  Tyrell,  as  the  carriage 
gave  an  awful  shake.  "  Phil  is  the  best  driver  in  our  country, 
and  can  turn  his  carriage  round  the  edge  of  a  dollar." 

"  I  reckon  I  could,"  said  Philip,  flourishing  his  whip  and  turn 
ing  round  Avith  a  laugh,  "provided  anybody  had  a  dollar  to 
lend  mo  for  the  purpose.  I  hav'n't  seen  one  so  long  that  I 
should  be  glad  to  reneAv  the  acquaintance.  Specie  is  mighty 
scarce  just  now  in  these  parts,  or  I  shouldn't  have  let  Simpson 
had  that  little  hog,  I  reckon." 

Away  Ave  rattled  down  a  hill,  rough  as  a  staircase,  with  great 
limestone  ridges  running  across  the  road.  Over  these  AVC  Avent 


1G6  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

gritting  and  slipping.  Phil  talking  to  his  horses,  and  reining 
them  up  to  let  us  down  easily,  two  wheels  at  a  time,  over  great 
rocks  of  limestone.  Every  now  and  then,  we  plunged  into  a 
mud-hole.  Down  went  the  horses  over  their  knees  in  mud. 
Then  came  a  scramble — horses  dragging  up  the  other  side,  as  if 
they  would  drag  themselves  out  of  their  ragged  harness ;  but  it 
held  firm:  as  Phil  said,  "  no  city  gear  was  ever  half  so  strong." 
Then  our  fore  wheels  went  in  with  a  sudden  jerk  and  splash — 
the  hind  wheels  followed  with  a  creaking  strain  on  every  bit  of 
wood  or  iron.  "  Oigh,  there,  Liz  !  Ge'  up  there  Barney  ?"  The 
horses'  hoofs  are  striking  and  slipping  on  another  limestone  ridge  ; 
they  can  hardly  keep  their  feet.  Philip  continues  to  gesticulate, 
never  using  the  whip,  and  with  a  long  pull  and  a  strong  pull 
from  our  unflinching  little  quadrupeds,  the  carriage  is  jerked 
at  length  all  safe  upon  another  ridge  of  limestone. 

I  trembled  all  over  every  time  we  came  to  such  a  place,  and 
held  on  to  the  side  of  the  carriage  with  both  hands. 

"  This  isn't  bad,"  said  Philip,  with  a  laugh.  "  Cousin  Molly, 
I  will  introduce  you  to  some  of  our  back  roads.  We've  got  a 
fine  bit  of  turn-pike  macadamized  with  black  marble  from  Clair- 
mont  to  the  river." 

On  we  went  over  six  miles  of  travelling  such  as  this,  past 
fields  of  waving  wheat,  and  clover  scenting  all  the  air  with  its 
sweet  perfume,  and  corn  just  beginning  to  swell  into  ear. 

We  passed  through  woods  of  noble  but  neglected  trees,  their 
beauty  not  impaired  by  any  undergrowth,  and  everywhere  the 
landscape  was  shut  in  by  its  frame-work  of  blue  mountains. 

We  skirted  a  straggling  town  with  muddy  streets ;  we  found  our 
selves  on  the  "  black  marble"  highway.  Philip  and  Tyrell  pointed 
out  Clairmont,  a  white  house  on  an  elevation  overlooking  the 
valley,  and  visible  itself  for  miles  away,  standing  out  iu  bold 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  161 

relief,  with  its  extremely  handsome  Grecian  porch,  and  its  green 
back-ground  of  woods,  stretching  like  wings  on  either  side  of  it. 
We  turned  into  the  avenue,  with  rougher  jerks  over  the  tall 
limestone  ridge,  which  made  a  sort  of  staircase  'at  the  gate,  than 
any  former  shocks  that  had  befallen  us. 

"  Why  in  the  name  of  sense,  don't  you  set  to  work  and  blast 
these  rocks  ?"  said  Max. 

"  Mr.  Morrisson  has  been  thinking  of  it,"  said  Phil,  "  and  he's 
been  fixing  up  lately.  Last  week  we  got  the  gate-posts  up,  and 
after  harvest  he  expects  to  get  the  gate  hung.  We  are  obliged 
to  keep  a  boy  about,  to  keep  out  the  neighbors'  hogs  which  eat  up 
everything.  There  they  are  again !  Oigh,  Tom !  Tommy 
Tadd!  run  boy,  and  drive  those  hogs  out!  Drive  them  well 
down  the  road." 

"  How  came  the  fences  broken  down  1"  said  I. 
"  Aye  rhil,"  said  Tyrell,  with  his  funny  look,  "  tell  us  how  it 
came  so  ?" 

"  Well,"  said  Phil,  "  when  I  was  a  boy  it  was  getting  into  a 
pretty  bad  state,  and  the  negroes  have  torn  down  some  of  the 
rails  to  save  themselves  the  trouble  of  chopping  wood  after  night 
fall.  And  there's  a  mighty  bad  mud-hole  just  beyond,  where 
carriages  and  carts  get  mired  in  the  spring,  and  they  used  up 
the  fence  rails  prying  them  out ;  and  so  pa  got  tired  of  putting 
up  new  fencing.  But  Morrisson  has  got  a  great  idea  of  fixing 
up. — Next  year,  cousin  Molly,  you  will  see !" 
Tyrell  responded  to  this  by  singing  a  stave  of 

Old  Virginny  nebber  tire, 
Stick  a  hoe-cake  on  him  foot 
And  hole  him  to  a  fire. 

Meantime  we  were  driving  under  splendid  oaks,  black  walnut 
trees,  locusts  and  hickories,  which  kept  in  order  would  have 
made  an  avenue  a  king  might  envy,  and  as  we  turned  on  to  the 


168  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

grassy  opening  beside  the  house,  the  glorious  view,  with  moun 
tains,  valley,  and  the  rising  moon,  broke  full  upon  us.  I  gave  an 
exclamation  of  delight,  interrupted  by  several  figures  running 
down  from  the  porch  towards  us.  "  Welcome,  cousins !  Glad 
to  see  you  Tyrell.  Your  Diggory  got  over  here  half  an  hour 
ago,  having  ridden  Jerry  most  to  death  to  be  the  first  to  tell  us 
to  expect  our  cousins.  Cousin  Max,  did  you  ever  hear  before  of 
sending  a  man  and  horse  in  advance  of  the  railroad  ?  We 

O 

are  so  glad  to  see  you.  We  got  your  letter  last  night,  cousin 
Moll.  You  don't  look  the  least  like  what  we  thought.  What 
do  you  think  of  our  roads  in  Old  Virginia  '?" 

With  pleasant  hearty  greetings  like  this  from  our  cousin  Vir 
ginia  Morrisson  (nee  Ormsby),  and  introductions  to  her  husband, 
Mr.  Morrisson,  and  to  a  distant  cousin,  Weston  Carter,  a  superb 
looking  fellow,  just  from  the  Florida  swamps,  with  the  air  and 
dignity  of  an    Indian,  we   were   carried  up  the   steps  of  the 
portico.      Sitting    upon   tho   upper   step,  surrounded  by  seve 
ral   gentlemen   of  the   neighborhood,   was    our    cousin    Vero 
nica.     She  rose  at  our  approach,  and  came  down  the  steps  to 
meet   us.     She  kissed  mo,  but  without  much   warmth.     Her 
greeting  was  very  different  from   that  of  cousin  Virginia.     She 
gave  Max  the  tips  of  her  fingers.     As  she  stood  in  the  soft  moon 
light,  in  a  lilac  muslin  dress,  with  a  red  Indian  shawl,  which  had 
been  her  mother's,  folded  around  her  to  protect  her  from  the 
evening  dew,  I  thought  I  had  never  before  seen  any  vision  of 
earth  so  gloriously  and  proudly  beautiful.     Her  queenliness  had 
developed  itself,  and  half  her  childish  winsomness  had  disap 
peared.     She  took  us  up  the  steps  on  to  the  porch,  and  presented 
us  to  aunt  Edmonia.      Dear  aunt  Edmonia,  too  infirm  to  totter 
down  the  steps  and  bid  us  welcome,  who  rose  up  tall  and  stately 
from  her  rocking-chair  at  our  approach,  laid  her  hand  upon  jny 
head  and  gave  me  her  kind  blessing. 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  169 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Mine  own  dear  land 
With  its  mountains  wild  and  blue. 

MOULTKIE. 

WE  sat  round  the  long  hospitable  tea-table  at  Clairmont,  piled 
with  delicious  biscuit,  hoe-cake,  and  hot  corn  cake,  "  fruit  cake" 
(Virginian  for  plum-cake),  and  other  votive  offerings,  by  which 
sacrifice  is  made  to  the  lean  goddess  Dyspepsia,  who  is  thus 
invoked  on  altars  of  hospitable  mahogany  through  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  land. 

Veronica  was  seated  between  tAVO  gentlemen  of  the  neighbor 
hood,  and  appeared  engrossed  by  their  conversation.  Max  tried 
every  now  and  then  to  win  her  notice,  but,  without  being  in  the 
least  rude  to  him,  she  treated  him  with  great  nonchalance,  and 
put  his  attentions  aside.  I  sat  between  Weston  Carter  and  cousin 
Tyrell ;  both  bent  on  supplying  me  with  amusement  and  indi 
gestion.  The  mistress  of  the  house,  on  "  hospitable  thoughts 
intent,"  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  directing  by  word  and  ges 
ture  the  movements  of  three  little  negroes,  two  girls  and  a  boy, 
whom  she  was  bringing  up  as  house  servants,  and  who  had  so 
much  personal  interest  in  the  fresh  supply  of  guests,  as  to  require 
continual  ordering  to  prevent  their  standing  gazing  at  us  with 
great  eyes,  instead  of  attending  to  the  service  of  the  table. 

"  I  declare,  cousin  Tyrell,  you  haven't  eaten  one  thing  yet.     Do 


170  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

try  some  ot  old  Marm  Venus's  corn  cake — it's  elegant  to  night — 
though  your  old  Mammy  Pomona  makes  it  so  good  at  home. 
I  declare,  you  have  grown  quite  a  stranger  at  Clairmont  since  last 
Fall.  Mr.  Morrisson  and  I  were  talking  about  it.  Perhaps 
cousin  Molly's  being  here  may  attract  you,  as  you  seem  to  have 
taken  a  fancy  to  your  English  cousins.  I  reckon  you  expect  \ve 
have  none  but  common  doings  in  our  ash-heap.  Cousin  Molly 
you  will  have  to  put  up  with  a  great  deal.  We  can  't  fix  up 
things  in  the  style  you've  been  accustomed  to  at  Castleton." 

The  conversation  was  very  animated,  and,  with  the  exception 
of  the  by-play  between  Veronica  and  her  two  gentlemen,  it  was 
very  general.  We  were  ten  persons  at  table ;  Phil  and  the 
children  of  the  family,  including  an  intelligent  and  gentlemanly 
little  boy  from  Baltimore,  taking  their  tea  at  a  side-table.  Good 
eating,  good  humor,  and  a  good  understanding  seemed  to  prevail 
everywhere.  Perhaps  Tyrell  was  less  talkative  than  when  we 
had  him  by  ourselves,  but  he  sustained  his  part  in  the  conversa 
tion  sufficiently.  lie  was  a  man  of  much  more  observation,  cul 
tivation,  powers  of  thought,  and  knowledge  of  the  world,  than 
any  of  the  rest  of  the  party.  His  superior  education  blended 
delightfully  with  their  talent  for  anecdote,  and  genial  gaiety. 
WTeston,  or  the  Great  \Vestern,  as  Tyrell  called  him,  on  account 
of  his  extraordinary  height  and  proportionate  development,  was 
paying  me  Western  compliments,  telling  me  I  was  "some 
pumpkins,  certain,"  and  "  a  whole  team  with  a  big  dog  under 
the  wagon,"  when  cousin  Virginia  made  the  signal,  and  we  rose 
from  the  table. 

The  two  gentlouien  of  the  neighborhood,  who  had  come  over 
on  business  with  Mr.  Morrisson  (it  was  an  affair  of  five  minutes. 
as  I  learnt  afterwards,  and  they  had  been  at  Clairmont  seven 
hours !)  took  leave  of  us  upon  the  porch,  and  attended  by  Phil 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  l7l 

and  Tyrell  went  to  the  edge  of  the  wood  where  their  horses  had 
stood  under  the  trees,  hitched  to  a  ring  in  an  old  rack,  since 
their  arrival  in  the  morning.  They  mounted,  and  rode  over  the 
grass  up  to  the  porch,  caracolling  as  they  waved  a  farewell  to 
Veronica,  while  Phil  with  shouts  and  gestures  tried  to  excite 
their  horses,  and  a  crowd  of  little  darkies  all  agape,  enjoying 
"  Mas'  Phil's  fooling,"  filled  up  the  back-ground. 

When  they  rode  off,  Veronica  called  the  children  round  her, 
and  entrenched  herself  in  the  midst  of  them,  apparently  engrossed 
in  attention  to  the  explanations  of  the  little  ,boy  from  Baltimore, 
who,  convinced  by  her  cordial,  earnest  way,  that  she  was  deeply 
interested  in  his  information,  was  explaining  to  her  with  some 
animation,  the  programme  of  out-door  amusements  throughout 
the  year,  adopted  by  Young  America  all  over  the  Union.  How 
ball,  and  hockey,  marbles,  and  kites  came  into  fashion,  each  on 
its  own  day  in  the  calendar,  as  regularly  as  our  own  moors  in 
August,  or  partridge  shooting  on  the  1st  of  September.  Max, 
whom  she  had  shut  out  from  the  conversation,  but  who  was 
standing  near  the  group,  broke  in  on  Walter's  naming  marbles, 
with  "  Don't  you  remember  what  a  famous  hand  you  were  at 
marbles,  Veronica  ?  And  don't  you  recollect  the  little  shop, 
just  as  you  go  into  the  hamlet,  kept  by  the  one-legged  sailor 
who  had  his  marbles  in  glass  jars,  like  sugar-plums  ?" 

"  Did  he  ?"  said  she.  "  I  hardly  recollect ;  it  is  so  long  ago. 
Tell  me  some  more  about  your  sports.  I  am  quite  interested, 
Walter." 

There  was  a  brief  moment  just  as  we  were  about  to  separate 
at  night,  Avhen  Max  found  an  opportunity  of  saying  to  me  "  Did 
you  ever  see  any  one  grown  so  handsome  ?  But  what  makes  her 
so  cold  ?" 

I  answered  in  a  whisper,  "  It  is  an  awkward  situation  for  her." 


172  OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA. 

"  Very  true,"  returned  Max.  "  In  a  day  or  two  that  feeling  will 
be  over." 

The  elastic  sleeping  accommodations  of  Clairmont  were  a 
great  wonder  to  me  in  after  days,  but  at  present  I  knew  too 
little  of  the  family  arrangements  to  give  a  thought  as  to  the  shifts 
and  changes  that  would  be  necessary  to  accommodate  a  bushel 
of  company  into  a  peck  measure  of  room.  I  went  up  stairs  to 
share  the  apartment  of  Veronica,  with  rather  a  regretful  feeling 
that  I  was  not  to  be  alone. 

The  room  was  a  very  large  one,  with  four  ill-fitting  and  uncur 
tained  windows,  opposite  each  other,  and  two  double  beds.  A 
little  negro  girl  was  piling  brands  on  an  enormous  glowing  fire 
of  hickory  logs  in  the  wide  chimney.  I  had  never  seen  such  an 
incomparable  fire,  and  though  it  was  nearly  June,  it  was  not 
unacceptable,  for  the  house  stood  upon  high  ground,  and  chinks 
in  the  windows  let  in  plenty  of  night  air. 

Veronica  did  not  seem  disposed  to  talk,  and  I  was  so  tired 
with  the  varied  impressions  of  the  day,  that  I  hardly  allowed 
myself  to  sit  a  moment  over  the  glowing  hearth,  but  was  in  bed 
and  fast  asleep,  while  Veronica  was  still  brushing  the  golden 
tresses  of  her  beautiful  hair.  I  awoke  somewhere  about  mid 
night,  startled  by  the  downfall  of  some  broken  brands,  and  turn 
ing  towards  the  firelight  saw  Veronica  in  her  white  dressing- 
gown  seated  on  a  low  stool  beside  the  hearth,  with  her  head 
bowed  on  her  hands.  It  was  an  attitude  of  such  utter 
misery  and  self-abandonment,  that  I  yielded  to  my  impulse  of 
compassion,  and  springing  out  of  bed  I  crossed  tho  room  and 
threw  my  arms  around  her.  Her  first  impulse  was  to  repulse 
ray  sympathy,  and  then  I  suppose  the  barriers  of  her  pride  were 
swept  away  by  the  surprise  and  suddenness  of  the  movement. 
She  laid  her  head  upon  my  breast  and  burst  into  tears. 


OUK     COUSIN     VERONICA.  1*73 

"  What  is  it,  dear  Veronica  ?" 

"  Nothing — nothing  Moll,"  she  said, "  only  I  feel  so  very  desolate. 
Uncle  Lomax,  who  loved  me  so,  is  gone ;  and  I  was  not  with  him 
when  he  died.  I  might  have  made  him  happier  in  his  last  days  if 
I  could  have  made  up  my  mind  to  go  back  to  Castleton.  I  acted 
for  the  best,  but  it  is  very  hard  to  know  what  the  right  course 
is  when  one  has  no  adviser  to  depend  upon.  Oh,  Molly  !  Mammy's 
words  came  back  to  me  continually,  "  all  'lone,  all  'lone  in  dis 
wide  world." 

"  Dear,  dear  Veronica  look  up  and  tell  me  if  you  can,  how 
many  people  love  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  that  is  no  comfort.  That  is  another  cause  for  suf 
fering."  Then  suddenly  the  anguish  in  her  face,  from  worldly 
trouble,  ceased,  and  a  smile  lighted  it  as  she  laid  her  hand  upon 
a  book  upon  her  knee.  "  '  In  quietness  and  confidence  shall  be 
your  strength.'  There  is  help  and  comfort  here." 

"  What  book  is  that  Veronica  ?" 

She  put  into  my  hands  the  '  Christian  Year,'  repeating : 

Nay  rather  steel  thine  aching  heart 
To  act  the  martyr's  sterner  part, 
And  watch  with  calm  unshrinking  eye 
Thy  darling  visions  as  they  die, 
Till  all  bright  hopes  and  hues  of  day 
Have  faded  into  twilight  grey. 

"  Molly,  I  wish  there  were  such  things  as  Protestant  nunneries. 
I  am  one  of  the  persons  who  ought  to  enter  one.  I  have  no 
natural  ties.  I  do  harm  to  every  one  who  cares  for  me.  It  is 
hard  not  to  wish  I  was  in  that  quiet  grave  under  the  old  apple- 
trees." 

She  had  risen  and  gone  towards  the  window.  I  threw  a  shawl 
over  my  night-dress,  and  followed  her.  A  glorious  moon  was 


174  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

lighting  up  the  landscape  till  night  was  luminous  as  day.  The 
valley  before  us  was  set  into  a  frame-work  of  mountains;  the 
nearest  about  six  miles  from  our  window.  Close  under  the  foot 
of  the  Blue  Ridge  ran  the  Shenamloah,  but  its  course  was 
masked  by  woods  along  its  banks,  and  it  formed  no  feature  in 
the  landscape.  From  the  river  to  the  spot  on  which  we  stood 
the  valley  sloped  up  gradually,  till  Clairmont  was  nearly  at  the 
same  elevation  as  the  summit  of  the  Ridge.  Between  the  river 
and  the  house  lay  Fighterstown,  glittering  white  in  the  calm 
moonshine.  Every  ragged  outline  was  softened  by  the  moon 
light  ;  the  woods,  and  rolling  country,  and  the  fields  of  waving 
wheat,  the  winding  road,  the  distant  roofs  of  other  country- 
houses  with  their  barns  and  "  quarter,"  all  were  distinctly  visible 
for  miles  around  at  midnight  as  we  stood  together  at  the  window, 
the  griefs  of  earth  subdued  by  the  surpassing  beauty  of  the  scene. 

"  Yonder  is  Stonehenge,"  said  Veronica,  pointing  towards  the 
river. 

"Yes,  cousin  Tyrell  lives  there.  I  am  very  glad  that 
cousin  Tyrell  has  the  place.  Veronica,  I  like  cousin  Tyrell 
exceedingly." 

Veronica  turned  and  looked  at  me.  "  He  is  a  gentleman  and 
a  Christian,"  said  she.  "  But  you  do  not  know  him  yet.  Not 
half  his  good  points  will  come  out  till  you  have  tried  him." 

"  Veronica  you  speak  very  warmly." 

"  I  feel  very  warmly,"  she  said.  "  By  the  way  that  is  more 
than  you  can  do.  Why  Molly !  you  will  catch  your  death  of 
cold.  Go  back  to  bed  immediately." 

"With  such  kind  scolding,  and  with  gentle  force,  she  obliged 
me  to  lie  down,  tucked  me  up  cozily,  and  bent  down  and  kissed 
me  as  my  dear  nursey  far  away  at  home,  tormented  by  the 
after-crop  of  children  in  our  house,  was  wont  to  do  whenever, 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  1 75 

after  I  retired  to  rest,  she  came  into  my  chamber.  I  had  risen  to 
comfort  Veronica,  and  yet,  though  she  had  not  repelled  my  sym 
pathy — nay  had  rather  invited  it  for  a  moment — she  had  in  her 
own  quiet  way  turned  the  tables  on  my  purpose  and  was  as  usual 
bearing  another's  burthen  without  relinquishing  her  own. 

I  lay  awake  some  time  watching  the  dying  fire-light,  and 
wondering  about  Veronica.  What  she  had  said  in  praise  of  Tyrell 
gave  me  an  uneasy  feeling.  I  tried  to  remember  whether  she 
had  talked  with  Tyrell  that  evening,  but  I  could  not  recollect 
that  I  had  seen  them  exchange  a  word.  Tyrell  had  been  talking 
to  Mr.  Morrisson  upon  the  porch,  and  when  we  went  into  the 
drawing-room  had  been  devoted  to  cousin  Virginia.  Another 
thing  I  asked  myself:  had  Veronica  any  suspicion  that  I  knew 
she  had  overheard  the  conversation  in  which  Max  had  revealed 
to  me  his  semi-boyish  love  for  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre  ? 

I  had  never  told  Max  that  she  had  overheard  it.  I  had  just  dis 
cretion  enough  to  know  by  instinct,  though  I  had  not  then  read 
Carlyle,  "that  speech  is  silvern — silence  golden."  When  it 
occurred  I  felt  that  it  would  wound  his  feelings  to  know  his 
confidence  had  had  a  listener.  I  comprehended  perfectly  why 
it  was  Veronica  had  been  unwilling  to  appear  when  we  first  came 
into  the  drawing-room  at  Castleton,  and  why  she  had  been  still 
less  willing  to  show  herself  after  our  conversation  had  begun ; 
and  I  could  easily  imagine  that  her  delicacy  would  bo  wounded  by 
the  thought  that  Max  knew  that  sjae  had  overheard  his  confidence, 
and  in  all  our  conversations  I  had  guarded  this  little  secret ; 
more,  perhaps,  because  I  was  afraid  to  tell  it,  afraid  of  the  annoy 
ance  it  would  bo  to  Max,  than  from  the  same  motives  of  delicacy 
which  had  influenced  me  in  the  first  instance  to  guard  the  secret 

O 

as  if  it  had  been  mine  own. 


1*76  OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA. 


CHAPTER     V 
3n 


Mr  impressions  of  the  beauty  of  Clairmont  were  not  less  vivid 
by  day  than  they  had  been  under  the  light  of  the  summer  moon  at 
midnight.  The  fir-clad  mountains  bounded  the  landscape,  look 
ing  like  a  trim  and  mighty  hedge  around  a  garden  of  the  Titans. 

We  breakfasted  at  six,  to  accommodate  the  gentlemen  who 
professed  themselves  busy  about  agricultural  affairs.  Tyrell  was 
at  the  breakfast-table  when  I  entered,  but  nothing  more  than 
ordinary  civilities  appeared  to  pass  between  him  and  Veronica. 
There  was  another  guest  who  ate  his  breakfast  silently  at  the 
foot  of  the  table,  between  Cousin  Phil  and  Mr.  Morrisson.  lie 
was  an  old  man,  very  tall,  and  fashioned  in  proportion  to  his 
height.  Ilis  silver  hair  was  parted  in  the  middle  of  his  head, 
and  hung  long  and  slightly  curled  over  his  coat  collar.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  complete  suit  of  gray  cloth.  His  mild,  sweet 
mouth,  his  gently-lighting  eyes,  and  the  simple  dignity  of  his 
manners,  drew  my  attention  immediately.  He  was  not  intro 
duced  to  me,  however,  when  I  sat  down  to  breakfast ;  but  when 
Veronica  came  in,  shortly  after,  her  face  lighted  up  when  she 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  177 

saw  him,  and  going  cordially  across  the  room,  with  her  pretty 
hand  held  out,  she  greeted  him  with  her  brightest  smile.  Cousin 
Virginia  made  a  very  funny  face,  and  motioned  me  to  observe 
the  greeting.  The  old  man  rose  and  took  Veronica's  right  hand 
gently  and  tenderly  in  his  left,  saying  in  a  soft  voice,  but  in  a 
nasal  key — 

"  It  is  always  an  honor  and  a  happiness  to  be  permitted  to  find 
myself  in  this  young  lady's  presence,  whenever  my  good  fortune 
conducts  me  into  the  bosom  of  this  amiable  family." 

As  he  spoke,  he  waved  the  fingers  of  his  right  hand  slowly  in 
the  air. 

"  Who  is  it  ?"  whispered  I.  "  What  a  striking-looking  old 
gentleman !" 

"  It's  a  beau  of  Veronica's,"  said  cousin  Virginia.  "  He  holds 
her  in  such  reverence,  that  he  won't  even  speak  her  name.  Mr. 
Felix,  won't  you  let  me  hear  you  say  my  cousin's  name  ?  Make 
the  effort,  to  oblige  me,  won't  you  ?" 

"  That  young  lady  is  acquainted  Avith  her  own  name,"  he 
replied,  with  a  quiet  smile.  "  I  trust  she  may  be  fortunate  in 
her  choice,  whenever  she  concludes  to  exchange  it  for  another." 

I  looked  at  Tyrell.  He  had  called  up  a  pointer  dog  of  Mr. 
Morrisson's,  which  had  been  lying  on  the  hearth,  and  was  giving 
him  a  bone. 

"  Tell  me  who  he  is,"  I  said  to  cousin  Virginia. 

She  was  interrupted  in  her  answer  by  the  arrival  of  four  large 
tin  pots  into  which  she  proceeded  to  pour  coffee  for  the  super 
annuated  mammies  of  the  family.  Tyrell,  however,  answered 
me. 

"  That  old  gentleman  is  a  man  of  singular  and  varied  know 
ledge,  and  has  a  simple  kindliness  which  makes  his  society 
generally  acceptable.  He  has  the  good  taste  to  appreciate  your 

8* 


178  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

cousin  Veronica,  and  worships  her  afar  off,  with  something  of 
that  knightly  devotion  which  makes  the  charm  of  old  romance. 
He  is  an  elderly  Sir  Galahad." 

"  But  who  is  he  ?" 

"  Who  is  he  ?"  repeated  Tyrell,  looking  at  me  with  a  smile. 
" '  Who  is  he  ?'  is  too  English  a  question  for  us,  Miss  Molly. 
We  people  of  the  valley,  who  have  few  fresh  books,  do  not  ask 
when  we  meet  with  a  new  volume,  '  who  wrote  it  ?'  We  inter 
rogate  its  pages  and  judge  it  by  what  we  find.  I  have  told  you 
what  manner  of  man  this  Mr.  Felix  is,  and  you  should  be  satis 
fied  without  knowing  his  profession  and  his  pedigree." 

The  old  man  rose  from  the  table. 

"  He  is  going  back  to  his  work,"  said  Tyrell ;  "  and  your 
beautiful  cousin,  with  kindness  beaming  in  her  soft  blue  eyes, 
will  sit  on  the  steps  of  the  back  porch,  with  her  sewing,  and 
draw  out  his  information  upon  naval  subjects,  and  pour  into  his 
lonely,  kindly  heart  the  balm  of  sympathy ;  and  if  his  gentle 
spirit  has  been  wounded  in  his  contact  with  ruder  natures,  in  his 
daily  walk,  her  refinement  will  soothe  and  comfort  him.  lie  has 
been  devoted  to  her  ever  since  her  first  arrival  at  Clairmont, 
when  she  won  his  regard  by  '  responding,'  as  he  said,  'to  a  few 
interrogatories.' " 

"  Cousin  Virginia,"  said  I,  determined  to  disappoint  Tyrell, 
who  was  playing  on  my  curiosity,  "  in  what  work  is  Mr.  Felix 
about  to  be  engaged  ?" 

"Well,"  said  she,  "he  will  begin  by  cutting  out  old  Uncle 
Israel's  coat.  This  is  a  busy  time  with  us,  cousin  Molly,  when 
the  servants  are  getting  their  summer  clothing." 

My  look  of  bewilderment  amused  Tyrell. 

"Do  not  forget,  Miss  Molly,"  said  lie,  "that  in  leaving  Eng 
land  for  the  interior  of  Virginia,  you  made  up  your  mind  to  pass, 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  179 

by  sudden  transition,  out  of  a  long-established  order  of  things 
into  an  earlier  phase  in  the  development  of  society.  In  lower 
Virginia  feudalism  still  exists ;  but  in  this  part  of  the  country, 
capital  is  more  diffused,  and  enterprise  is  beginning  to  creep  in. 
Our  large  plantations  are  nearly  all  cut  up ;  our  slave  population 
is  beginning  to  feel  some  effects  from  the  competition  of  Irish 
labor.  Society  with  us  is  like  a  road  newly  macadamized  ;  it 
has  neither  the  smooth  places  of  the  old  dirt  road,  nor  the 
advantages  of  a  well-beaten  turnpike.  Every  white  man  counts 
with  us,  much  as  a  nobleman  does  in  Poland  or  in  Hungary, 
where  counts  and  barons  are  found  ploughing,  with  the  sword 
that  marks  their  order  dangling  at  their  sides.  They  and  we 
have  barely  the  beginning  of  a  middle  class  between  serf  and 
noble.  We  are  expected  to  admit  all  white  men  to  our  tables, 
or  make  suitable  apology  for  their  exclusion.  I  do  not  say  this 
in  reference  to  Mr.  Felix  ;  his  company  in  any  circle,  upon  equal 
terms,  needs  no  apology.  He  was  born  with  that  native  kindli 
ness  which  is  the  mint  stamp  of  a  gentleman ;  and  his  eccentrici 
ties  make  him  a  very  amusing  companion  to  all  persons  who  can 
forget  their  reverence  for  the  child-like  beauty  of  his  character 
enough  to  enjoy  a  laugh  at  his  peculiarities.  Mr.  Felix  is  a  tailor 
by  trade,  living  in  Fighterstown,  and  passes  round  the  neighbor 
hood,  from  country  house  to  country  house,  cutting  out  the  summer 
and  winter  clothing  of  the  negroes,  which  is  made  up  at  home." 

I  sat  for  a  moment  quite  unable  to  realize  that  the  empty  tea 
cup  opposite  my  plate  had  been  the  tea-cup  of  a  tailor. 

"  Come,  Miss  Molly,"  said  Tyrell,  at  length,  "  get  rid  of  your 
surprise,  and  come  with  me  into  the  back  porch,  where  I  will 
introduce  you  to  the  good  old  gentleman." 

On  the  back  porch  we  found  Mr.  Felix,  with  a  largo  pair  of 
old-fashioned  glasses  on.  He  was  standing  at  a  long  board, 


180  OUR      CO  U  SIX      VERONICA. 

raised  on  tressels,  marking  out  dimensions  upon  negro  cloth  with 
a  piece  of  chalk  between  his  fingers ;  Veronica  was  sitting  by, 
and  Max  was  talking  to  him.  The  old  man's  eyes  were  lighted 
up  with  interest,  as  we  joined  the  group ;  they  were  mild,  soft, 
bright,  winning  eyes,  shining  under  his  hair  like  the  eyes  of  a 
Skye  terrier.  Max  had  been  in  Paris  the  year  before,  when  the 
body  of  Napoleon  had  been  brought  from  St.  Helena  to  the 
banks  of  the  Seine,  and  he  was  describing  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
spectators  (notwithstanding  the  extreme  coldness  of  the  day)  to 
his  delighted  auditor.  The  old  man  asked  all  kinds  of  minute 
particulars,  as  if  striving  to  imprint  the  minutiae  of  the  scene 
clearly  on  his  memory.  From  this  description  of  the  closing 
scene  of  the  great  history,  the  conversation  passed  into  a  dis 
cussion  on  the  character  and  history  of  Napoleon.  The  old 
man  had  no  powers  of  generalization ;  but  I  was  astonished 
to  perceive  how  varied  and  curiously  minute  his  information 
was.  He  seemed  to  have  studied  the  history  till  the  whole 
period  to  him  was  real. 

Veronica  sat  sewing.  She  tried  to  be  intent  upon  her  work* 
but  ever  and  anon  her  face  was  lighted  by  a  bright  gleam  of  intel 
ligence,  and  several  times  Mr.  Felix  appealed  to  her,  when  she 
joined  in  the  conversation  with  a  few  words.  Max  kept  it  up,  I 
think,  because  he  marked  her  interest,  but,  gradually  letting  it 
drop  into  the  hands  of  Tyrell,  he  seated  himself  on  a  low  step 
of  the  porch  facing  the  beautiful  wood,  disfigured  by  pig-pens 
and  a  shattered  wood-pile.  No  sooner  was  he  seated,  however, 
than  we  heard  Philip's  hearty  voice  as  he  came  running  up  from 
the  wheat  field  before  the  house  crying,  "  Oigh  Tyrell !  there's 
your  father  coming  along  the  road  in  his  two  horse  buggy." 

Max  had  business  to  transact  with  Governor  Tyrell  and 
wanted  to  see  him.  Nino  o'clock  seemed  to  me  early  to 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  181 

receive  a  visit  of  ceremony,  but  cousin  Virginia  did  not  appear 
to  think  so.  She  who  Lad  been  busy  with  a  whole  tribe  of 
negroes  of  all  ages,  giving  orders  in  the  kitchen,  hurrying  up 
the  boy  who  was  out  in  the  wood  cleaning  knives,  and  giving 
directions  to  two  girls  who  were  to  sew  upon  the  clothes  that 
Mr.  Felix  was  cutting  out — took  off  her  apron  as  if  she  had 
nothing  to  do  and  invited  us  to  accompany  her  to  receive  Gover 
nor  Tyrell  in  the  front  porch  or  in  the  parlor. 

She  said  her  servants  were  all  "  mighty  trifling."  A  word  I 
soou  learnt  to  understand  was  Virginian  for  "  careless,"  "  giddy," 
"untrustworthy" — such  a  combination  of  those  qualities  in  short 
as  might  be  expected  in  a  set  of  vain  and  idle  people,  brought 
up  under  a  system  of  scolding,  without  any  aim  in  life  except 
to  enjoy  themselves  under  unfavorable  circumstances,  and  escape 
punishment,  and  without  any  sense  of  personal  responsibility. 

As  we  stood  together  on  the  porch  waiting  for  Governor 
Tyrell,  Max  whispered  something  to  Veronica.  She  drew  back 
quietly  and  answered  aloud,  "  I  have  placed  my  poney  at  your 
sister's  service  and  do  not  intend  to  ride  this  summer." 

The  few  hours  we  had  been  at  Clairmont  had  put  a  great 
gulf  between  Veronica  and  my  brother.  He  no  longer  dared 
approach  her  on  the  old  familiar  terms  as  his  cousin  and  his 
play-fellow.  Their  relations  were  on  a  mere  footing  of  distant 
politeness.  Max,  who  had  intended  to  accomplish  a  brief  court 
ship,  found  his  intentions  ignored  or  quietly  repulsed,  and  was 
growing  afraid  of  attempting  to  approach  her.  This  was  not 
what  suited  his  impetuosity.  He  felt  that  every  moment  he  was 
drifting  away  from  her.  He  went  straight  to  the  point  as  his 
manner  was  determined  to  draw  the  truth  from  her. 

"  Cousin  Veronica,"  he  said,  "  it  appears  to  me  that  you  forget 
how  intimate  we  were  as  children.  It  seems  to  me  that  you  are 


182  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

hardly  pleased  to  see  us  in  Virginia.  You  do  not  treat  us  as  if 
you  remembered  the  good  old  times  at  Castleton." 

Veronica  steadied  herself  against  a  pillar  of  the  portico  and 
hesitated  for  an  answer. 

"  Come  Veronica,"  said  Max  persuasively,  though  with  a  tremor 
in  his  tone,  "  relent  and  give  poor  Molly  and  myself  a  smile  of 
welcome." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  be  discourteous,  but  it  is  better  to  be  honest 
than  polite,"  she  faltered.  "  I  am  not  glad  to  see  you  here.  I 
wish  you  had  spent  this  summer  at  Castleton." 

"  I  should  have  had  no  motive  in  coming  to  Virginia  after 

O  O 

that  time,"  he  replied.  "  Fear  not,  Veronica,  I  am  not  going 
to  urge  you  with  unseemly  haste  to  grant  me  all  I  hope  to  ask 
before  the  anniversary  of  the  death  of  your  uncle." 

"  I  have  no  right  of  course  to  prescribe  where  you  shall  go  or 
whom  you  shall  see,"  said  Veronica.  "You  have  undoubtedly  a 
right  to  visit  your  cousins  in  Virginia  and  to  stay  at  Clairmont, 
where  you  are  sure  of  a  kind  welcome  from  Mr.  Morrisson  and 
cousin  Virginia,  but  if  my  wishes  had  any  influence  with  you, 
you  would  leave  Molly  here  and  travel  into  Western  Virginia, 
or  go  to  see  Weir's  Cave,  or  the  Natural  Bridge,  or  the  White 
Sulphur  Springs — all  places  of  interest  to  the  traveller." 

"  Veronica,"  said  Max,  "  what  am  I  to  understand  from  this 
conversation  2" 

"Precisely  what  I  think  you  understand,"  she  interrupted  him. 
"  It  may  not  be  becoming  in  me  to  speak  so  openly,  but  I  am  placed 
in  a  difficult  and  exceptional  position  towards  you.  Your  presence 
is  not  welcome  to  me  at  Clairmont.  Had  it  been  possible  for  me 
to  go  away  before  you  came,  I  should  have  done  so  rather  that 
request  a  favor.  As  it  is  I  have  no-  alternative  but  to  beg  that 
you,  a  man  who  can  go  when  and  where  you  will,  will  leave 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  183 

this  neighborhood,  or  else  if  you  stay  here  that  you  will  take 
this  honest  warning." 

"  Max !"  cried  cousin  Virginia  from  the  grass,  "  come  down, 
here  is  the  Governor." 

Veronica  had  withdrawn  herself,  and  Max  finding  that  he  was 
left  alone,  sprang  with  a  long  leap  upon  theg  rass  from  the  high 
end  of  the  portico. 

The  Governor  came  up  the  steps.  He  was  a  tall  spare  man, 
dressed  all  in  green  with  a  superb  emerald  pin  in  his  shirt  bosom. 
His  hair  was  white  and  thin,  worn  short,  and  brushed  up  from 
his  temples.  His  clear,  ruddy  face  was  smoothly  shaven.  He 
had  been  an  old  diplomatist ;  had  represented  his  country  at 
divers  Courts  of  Europe,  during  the  days  of  the  first  presidents, 
and  served  her  less  by  his  talents  (though  those  were  very  con 
siderable)  than  by  the  simple  dignity  of  his  manners,  hia 
polish,  and  high  breeding.  So  finished  a  gentleman  repre 
senting  the  United  States  amongst  the  best  society  of  foreign 
courts  was  a  letter  of  recommendation  "  known  and  read  by  all," 
in  favor  of  his  countrymen. 

His  manners  had  the  precise  dignity  of  the  old  school,  as  he 
came  up  the  steps  and  made  me  his  salutation. 

He  had  been  a  young  man  in  Paris  in  1785,  imbued  at  that 
period  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Rights  of  Man  School.  It 
was  singular  to  talk  with  a  man  who  had  gossipped  in  the  bos 
quets  of  Versailles  with  piquante  ladies  of  the  Court  of  Marie 
Antoinette ;  who  had  mixed  up  the  awful  tragedies  of  Revolution 
with  the  petty  realities  of  meat  and  drink,  during  the  reign  of 
Terror ;  who  had  heard  Mirabeau  thunder  from  the  tribune — 
had  seen  Robespierre  with  his  sky-blue  dandy  coat,  and  prim 
bouquet ;  and  shuddered  at  the  dreadful  guillotine  at  work  till  "  all 
the  place  ran  blood,"  where  now  the  waters  of  the  further  foun- 


184  OUIl      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

taiu  in  the  Place  do  la  Concorde,  leap  and  sparkle ;  that  foun 
tain  beyond  the  Obelisk  of  Luxor,  the  one  nearest  to  the 
Seine. 

The  old  gentleman  had  preserved  the  ideas  of  that  period, 
tempered  by  the  wisdom  of  experience.  He  was  not,  like  most 
old  men,  conservative — he  was  a  waif  of  the  old  Revolution. 
No  man  was  ever  more  thoroughly  an  aristocrat  than  he,  in  all 
his  feelings,  habits,  and  tastes ;  but  in  all  that  related  to  theories 
of  government  he  was  a  democrat  of  the  old  democracy.  Ho 
despised  the  politician  of  the  modern  school.  He  called  them 
partisans  not  statesmen  ;  but  he  believed  in  the  vitality  and  ulti 
mate  diffusion  of  the  ideas  he  cherished.  He  thought  that 
Europe  was  not  yet  out  of  the  furnace  of  the  Revolution.  No 
untoward  circumstances  drove  him  to  despondency.  lie  believed 
with  all  his  soul,  that  all  things  worked  together  for  the  ultimate 
triumph  of  democracy.  When  the  car  of  Progress  alarmed 
people  of  less  experience  by  running  backward,  he  knew  that  it 
was  only  a  manoeuvre  to  get  on  the  right  track  when  it  might 
get  up  its  steam.  There  was  a  loyalty  about  him  that  I  have 
rarely  seen  in  other  Americans.  His  patriotism  was  wider  than 
the  boundaries  of  States.  He  believed  in  the  mighty  mission  of 
the  Republic,  as  the  political  backwoodsman  of  the  human  race. 
Our  cousin  Tyrell  interested  himself  more  in  social  questions  than 
in  abstract  politics.  He  had  caught  the  tone  of  the  day ;  but 
governments  and  theories  of  government  alone,  were  what  inte 
rested  his  father.  No  man  upon  earth  was  kinder  than  Gover 
nor  Tyrell  to  individuals,  but  schemes  of  general  philanthropy 
were  not  his  affair. 

He  sat  in  the  porch  and  talked  to  us  delightfully.  The  flavor 
of  his  eloquence  would  have  lent  a  charm  to  common-place,  but 
his  conversation  was  altogether  out  of  the  common  line,  both  in 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.^  185 

matter  and  kind.  Cousin  Tyrell  stood  by  enjoying  his  father's 
talk  as  much  as  any  of  us.  Cousin  Virginia,  forgetting  her 
occupations  in  the  kitchen  and  back  porch,  sat  by  us,  with  her 
glorious  eyes  flashing  intelligence.  I  never  ceased  regretting, 
while  I  stayed  at  Clairmont,  that  a  woman  so  fitted  to  adorn 
society  by  every  natural  gift  of  wit  and  beauty,  should  have  had 
her  lot  cast  upon  a  country  farm,  where  she  was  enslaved  by 
her  own  negroes.  And  yet  powers  such  as  hers  must  always 
assert  themselves.  Her  social  talents  collected  round  her  all 
kindred  elements  within  her  reach.  Busy  as  the  mistress  of 
Clairmont  always  was  she — was  never  like  a  Yankee  woman,  too 
busy  to  welcome  company  She  was  the  life  of  the  vicinity,  the 
soul  of  every  attempt  at  gaiety ;  she  led  the  laugh  on  all  occa 
sions,  and  the  best  efforts  of  the  united  neighborhood  could 
hardly  keep  pace  with  her  cordial  hospitality. 

Governor  Tyrell  had  come  over  to  Clairmont  to  engage  us  to 
pay  an  early  visit  to  Stonehenge.  He  wanted  to  secure  the  entire 
family,  children,  servants  and  grown-  persons.  He  had  plenty 
of  accomodation  for  all  of  us,  he  said.  The  roads  were  very 
bad ;  and  he  suggested  we  should  come  on  horseback, — would 
send  over  horses  if  any  were  wanted  for  the  party,  and 
had  a  beautiful  little  sorrel  pony — "  the  prettiest  thing  of  its 
size  in  Virginia," — that  he  must  place  at  my  disposal  while  I 
remained  at  Clairmont.  I  gratefully  accepted  this  attention, 
having  heard  what  Veronica  had  said  to  Max,  and  it  was  agreed 
that  a  ride  through  the  summer  woods  along  the  river  road 
would  be  delightful. 

Cousin  Virginia  arranged  the  programme  of  our  visit.  The 
following  Thursday  was  fixed  on  for  the  excursion,  and  one  pro 
posal  made  was,  that  in  order  to  have  as  much  time  as  possible 
before  us  we  should  leave  Clairmont  at  sunrise. 


186  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"My  son  will  send  Miss  Mandeville  his  horse  and  rido  with 
her  himself,  to  make  sure  that  she  is  safe,"  said  the  Governor. 

'•  What  is  your  pony's  name  2"  I  said  to  Tyrell. 

"Angelo,"  he  answered.  "I  helieve  he  is  a  first  rate  little 
horse  for  a  lady." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Governor,  "  when  Miss  Veronica  first  came 
I  desired  my  son  to  place  him  at  her  disposal.  You  used 
to  ride  every  day  with  Miss  Lomax  when  she  first  had  him, 
James,"  he  added,  turning  to  his  son,  "  and  you  can  give  Miss 
Mandeville  a  good  report  of  him." 

"Where  is  Veronica?  Oigh  !  Mary  Louisa,  just  go  and  tell 
your  Miss  Veronica  that  she  has  dressed  herself  enough,"  said 
cousin  Virginia. 

It  had  been  so  much  trouble  to  get  Mary  Louisa  settled  to  her 
work,  that  it  seemed  to  me  a  pity  to  disturb  her. 

"  I  will  call  Veronica,"  said  I ;  and  ran  up  into  her  chamber. 
She  was  not  there,  and  I  went  on  to  the  back  porch  in  search 
of  her. 

As  I  opened  the  door  Walter  rushed  up  to  me.  "  Oh  !  Miss 
Molly,"  said  lie,  "  Mr.  Felix  says  that  if  he  had  noble  blood, 
literary  distinction,  a  large  fortune,  a  splendid  and  youthful 
appearance,  piety,  and  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  French  lan 
guage,  he  would  really  feel  constrained  to  offer  himself  to 
co*usin  Veronica." 

"  I  was  not  so  presumptuous  as  to  volunteer  any  observation  of 
that  nature,"  began  Mr.  Felix,  laying  down  his  shears,  and  wav 
ing  the  fingers  of  his  right  hand,  as  was  his  custom,  "  but  young 
Mr.  Walter  put  the  question  to  me  in  a  direct  form,  and  I  was 
constrained  to  give  it  a  truthful  answer." 

"  Mr.  Felix,"  said  Veronica,  "  I  beg  your  pardon  for  this 
naufhtv  boy,  who  had  no  business  to  be  impertinent  to  either  of 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  187 

us.  I  assure  you,"  she  added,  with  a  forced  smile,  "  that  I  shall 
never  receive  a  more  acceptable  offer." 

"  God  bless  me,"  said  the  old  man,  in  a  subdued  tone,  "  you 
should  not  say  that ;  indeed,  it  does  not  become  you  to  say  so. 
Even  a  young  lady  so  greatly  superior  to  all  others,  might  find 
that  to  confer  happiness  on  one  of  the  other  sex  who  was 
worthy  of  her  regard,  was  suitable  and  becoming.  I  am  most 
sincerely  sorry,"  addressing  me,  "  that  this  young  lady  does  not 
contemplate  the  silken  bonds  of  matrimony.  I  should  have 
thought  the  tenderest  relations  of  life  would  have  had  a  charm 
in  proportion  .to  her  excellence  and  superiority." 

"  Xo,  Mr.  Felix,  I  am  very  happy  as  I  am !"  (oh !  sad,  sad 
words,  that  mean  so  completely  the  reverse  in  most  cases,  when 
a  woman  utters  them),  "  and  do  not  mean  to  give  away  my 
independence  so  long  as  it  can  be  preserved." 

The  old  man  looked  at  her,  but  stood  his  ground.  "  When  a 
young  man  of  suitable  acquirements  and  of  distinguished  family 
and  worth,  has  honestly  set  his  desire  on  acquiring  the  attach 
ment  of  a  young  lady,  I  do  not  consider  that  she  enhances  the 
admiration  that  all  good  men  entertain  for  her,when  her  love 
of  independence  induces  her  to  reject  his  offer." 

"  Why !  Mr.  Felix,"  said  the  voice  of  my  aunt  Edmonia,  "  I 
thought  you  considered  Veronica  too  good  for  any  man." 

"  This  young  lady  is  superior  to  any  other  young  lady  with 
whom  I  have  ever  become  acquainted,"  said  Mr.  Felix,  "  but  I 
conceive  she  will  but  add  new  graces  to  those  with  which 
she  is  so  abundantly  endowed,  when  she  consents  to  matri 
mony." 

Here  Walter  ran  away  to  the  front  porch,  where  we  .heard 
him  telling  Governor  Tyrell  and  his  son,  Max,  and  cousin  Vir 
ginia,  that  Mr.  Felix  said  "if  he  had  noble  blood,  literary  dis- 


188  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

tinction,  a  large  fortune,  splendid  and  youthful  appearance,  piety, 
and  a  competent  knowledge  of  the  French  language,"  he  would 
offer  these  advantages  to  Veronica ;  adding  that  Veronica  said 
positively  she  never  meant  to  marry  anybody,  and  that  Mr. 
Felix  was  reproving  her. 


OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA.  189 


CHAPTER    VI. 

Led  by  my  folly  or  my  fate, 

I  loved  before — I  knew  not  what, 

And  threw  my  thoughts  I  knew  not  where. 
With  judgment  now  I  love  and  sue, 
And  never  yet  perfection  knew, 

Until  I  cast  mine  eyes  on  her. 

Raised  to  this  height,  I  have  no  more, 
Almighty  Love,  for  to  implore 

Of  my  auspicious  stars  and  thee, 
Than  that  thou  bow  her  noble  mind 
To  be  as  mercifully  kind 

As  I  shall  ever  faithful  be. 

COLTON,  1660. 

THE  sun  rose  in  all  his  glory  over  tlie  crest  of  the  Blue 
Ridge  on  the  morning  which  had  been  fixed  upon  for  our  Stone- 
henge  visit.  The  interval  between  the  invitation  and  the  dinner 
party  had  been  passed  in  the  busy  idleness  which  is  the  life  of 
Virginia.  I  had  learned  to  play  cards  in  the  morning,  to  mix  a 
mint  julep  and  imbibe  one,  to  sit  on  the  porch  half  the  day,  and 
entertain  gentlemen.  I  had  planned  a  scramble  through  the 
woods,  but  found  that  walking  for  exercise  was  unheard  of  in 
Virginia ;  and  was  consoled  by  a  merry  pic-nic,  to  which  we  and 
all  the  instruments  of  music  were  transported  in  a  wagon,  with 
a  team  of  mules.  I  had  been  to  church,  where  the  minister 
gave  out  that  the  second  service  would  be  held  at  "  early  candle- 


190  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

light,"  when  the  congregation  straggled  in  according  to  their 
ideas  of  that  indefinite  season. 

Gentlemen  of  the  neighborhood,  attracted  by  the  news  of  our 
arrival,  caine  up  to  Clairmont  every  day,  and  by  their  assistance 
we  wasted  time,  and  had  a  dance  and  concert  every  evening. 
Everybody  at  Clairmont  sang — and  was  singing  continually. 
The  drawing-room  was  littered  with  flutes,  oboes,  fiddles,  flageo 
lets,  guitars  and  accordeons,  besides  a  venerable  Broadwood 
piano,  which  had  not  known  a  tuning-key  for  many  a  day.  Not 
content  with  all  these  instruments — on  each  of  which  our 
cousins  could  all  play,  without  having  received  instruction — the 
music  of  the  merriest  choruses  was  eked  out  by  ruder  musical 
inventions.  Tyrell  was  splendid  on  the  sleigh-bells  and  a  tam 
bourine  made  out  of  a  tin  waiter,  while  Phil  whistled  like  a 
nightingale  to  the  music  of  a  silver  spoon  in  a  glass  tumbler,  or 
an  obligate  accompaniment  upon  the  bones ;  he  boasted  of  a 
recent  whistling-match  with  the  best  darkey  whistler  in  tho 
neighborhood,  on  which  a  darky  jury  had  been  empannelled, 
and  decided,  "that  Cudjoe  had  de  longes'  breath — but  Mas' 
Phil  beat  him  all  to  pieces  in  de  twisses." 

Aunt  Edmonia  used  to  sit  in  her  rocking-chair,  amongst  tho 
perpetual  confusion,  and  laugh  at  all  the  funny  things  that  met 
her  ears  till  her  chair  shook  under  her.  Little  black  heads  were 
always  popping  up  from  under  the  tables,  from  the  corners  of 
the  rooms,  or  from  behind  the  doors — for  they  Avere  kept  on 
hand  to  run  of  errands ;  and  participation  in  the  frolics  of  the 
"  white  folks,"  is  a  cherished  perquisite  of  all  the  little  darkeys. 

Our  cousin-in-law,  Mr.  Morrisson,  the  impersonation  of  an  easy 
temper,  filled  the  important  offices  of  Objector-General  and 
Major-Gcneral  Tease — the  duties  of  which  can  only  be  well 
administered  by  a  person  of  established  reputation  for  good 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  191 

humor.  He  interposed  the  animated  "  No !"  when  mischief  was 
on  foot — when  Phil  got  up  a  race  down  in  the  clover-field 
between  two  negroes  mounted  upon  mules — or  when  we  rode  in 
the  wagon,  instead  of  having  ourselves  transported  with  "  pomp, 
pride,  and  circumstance,"  in  the  family  carriage. 

Max  and  Veronica,  thrown  into  contact  in  these  frolics  of  the 
day,  were  outwardly  good  friends,  though  I,  who  knew  what 
must  be  passing  in  my  brother's  heart,  could  observe  there  was 
restraint  between  them.  Veronica  joined  in  all  the  nonsense 
going  on  with  less  enthusiasm  than  any  of  us.  She  tried  to 
redeem  some  of  her  time,  especially  early  in  the  day,  and  used 
to  sit  in  the  dilapidated  chamber  where  our  aunt  Edmonia 
passed  most  of  her  time,  surrounded  by  white  children  and  black 
children,  and  negro  women  busy  in  household  offices,  and  cousin 
Virginia  moving  in  and  out  from  porch  to  kitchen,  with  a  merry 
word  or  a  sharp  Avord  as  the  occasion  called  for.  But  unfortu 
nately  for  Veronica's  plans  of  retirement,  she  was  the  centre  of 
attraction  to  all  of  us ;  and  the  whole  party  used  to  follow  her 
into  aunt  Edmonia's  chamber,  where,  for  want  of  chairs,  Phil 
Ormsby,  Weston  Carter,  or  Tyrell  (if  he  happened  to  be  at 
Clairmont),  sat  perched  with  their  guitars  upon  the  two  great 
beds ;  and  there  the  ceaseless  fun  went  on,  as  we  played  a  game 
of  shuttle-cock  with  every  joke ;  or  our  cousins,  admirable  in 
mimicry,  told  endless  anecdotes,  dashed  with  that  broad  hyper 
bole  which  is  the  humor  of  America. 

Good  heavens  !  what  a  power  of  endless  talk  there  is  in  old 
Virginia.  Set  a  Virginian  on  a  porch,  with  his  chair  tipped  back, 
and  a  supply  of  tobacco  enough  to  last  all  day,  or  perch  him  on 
a  fence-rail  with  the  same  condition,  and  he  will  talk  politics,  or 
argue  law,  or  tell  anecdotes  till  night-fall.  Put  him  with  ladies 
whom  he  is  not  afraid  of,  and  take  him  away  from  the  con 
tagious  stiffness  of  the  best  parlor,  and  he  will  rise  to  the  oeca- 


192  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

sion  in  gallantry  or  sentiment.  lie  sows  crops  of  "  love  in 
idleness,"  and  indeed  is  rarely  faithful  to  one  charmer,  but  is 
always  shooting  arrows  by  the  sheaf,  whenever  he  gets  hold  of 
Cupid's  bow  and  quiver.  I  doubt  if  Virginians  know  what  it  is 
to  be  bored,  or  if  a  genuine  bore  could  be  "  scared  up"  in  the 
whole  state  of  Virginia. 

On  the  evening  before  the  expedition  to  Stonehenge,  Tyrell 
had  brought  over  my  pony  to  Clairinont  after  nightfall.  We 
had  had  an  unusually  merry  evening.  Mr.  Jefferson  Wayland, 
rather  an  admirer  of  Veronica's,  and  the  great  beau  of  the  neigh 
borhood,  had  been  present.  lie  was  the  only  specimen  of  the 
exquisite  to  be  met  with  among  these  rough  diamonds.  He  was 
a  handsome  man,  about  thirty  years  of  age,  dressed  in  the  height 
of  the  fashion.  Tyrell  told  me  that  he  boasted  that  he  changed 
his  suit  three  or  four  times  a  day,  and  had  an  endless  variety  of 
coats  and  pantaloons  at  home.  lie  talked  condescendingly  in 
turn  to  each  of  us  ;  he  listened  to  our  music,  en  position,  with  an 
air  of  rapt  attention ;  and  having  bestowed  half  an  hour  of 
exclusive  attention  on  Veronica,  seemed  to  consider  lie  was 
bound  to  make  up  to  me  for  apparent  neglect,  by  putting  my 
best  laced  pocket-handkerchief  in  his  pocket,  in  a  fit  of  gallant 
vivacity. 

•Tired  at  length  of  being  the  object  of  the  attentions  with 
"which  Jeff  Wayland  thought  it  due  to  himself  to  distinguish  the 
stranger  in  his  company,  I  made  my  way  through  the  throng  of 
little  servants  choking  up  the  door  of  the  drawing-room,  and  went 
out  upon  the  porch,  where,  to  my  surprise,  I  found  Veronica.  Just 
as  I  joined  her,  Max  came  from  the  dining-room,  bringing  a  chair 
which  he  offered  to  her.  She  declined  it,  and  he  put  it  impa 
tiently  aside,  "If  Mr.  Tyrell,  or  Weston  Carter,  or  Mr.  Wayland, 
had  offered  it  to  you,  I  suppose  you  would  have  taken  it,  but  you 
never  acccept  the  most  ordinary  civility  from  me,  Veronica." 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  193 

"  I  have  not  the  least  objection  to  take  your  chair,  cousin 
Max,"  said  she,  drawing  it  towards  her. 

"  Why  is  it,  Veronica,  that  you  treat  me  as  you  do  ?"  he  said  j 
"  you  scarcely  look  at  me.  Even  in  the  civilities  of  the  table  you 
will  take  nothing  from  me.  You  won't  dance  with  me.  You 
won't  ride  with  me.  In  any  of  the  games  that  are  forever  going  on 
you  never  call  me  by  my  name  or  take  the  slightest  notice  of  me.'' 

"  As  for  dancing,"  said  Veronica,  "  I  never  dance,  as  you  know ; 
and  cousin  Max,  I  think  it  is  very  unjust  of  you  to  say  that  I 
ever  have  put  any  slight  on  your  civilities  before  other  persons. 
I  am  the  last  person  in  the  world  to  wish  to  lower  you  in  the 
estimation  of  strangers.  That  I  might  run  no  risk  of  doing  so  I 
did  more,  perhaps,  than  most  women  would  have  done.  I  told 
you  what  my  wishes  were.  I  gave  you  an  honest  warning,  I 
imagined  that  I  had  a  right  to  hope  I  was  dealing  with  a  gentle 
man  Avho  would  cease  to  persecute  me." 

"  God  knoAvs,  Veronica,  that  your  opinion  of  me  is  insulting 
and  unjust,"  cried  Max,  bitterly.  "  Making  an  honest  suit  to  a 
woman  under  the  circumstances  in  which  we  stand  to  each  other 
is  not  persecution.  If  there  is  any  impassable  barrier  to  my 
success  you  ought  to  tell  me  so.  If  there  is  nothing  but  the 
fact  that  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  win  your  favorable  opinion 
I  shall  not  despair  of  gaining  it,  unworthy  as  I  feel  myself  of  such 
a  woman  as  you  are,  Veronica." 

"  I  implore  you,"  said  Veronica,  "  do  not  force  me  to  say  that 
which  will  throw  Oatlands  and  all  its  negroes — human  beings 
Max — body  and  soul  into  the  hands  of  Will  Williams,  a  man 
who  is  notoriously  a  hard  and  cruel  master.  Some  of  them  are 
the  children  and  grandchildren  of  my  old  Mammy,  Max.  Hear 
me  plead  with  you  for  them.  Go  away  from  Clairmont.  Let 
it  be  understood  that  I  have  not  pleased  you.  Be  generous,  cousin 

9 


194  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Max.  Castletou  ought  to  be  yours,  and  if  it  falls  to  me  by  the 
will,  I  am  going  to  consult  Governor  Tyrell  whether  I  cannot 
exchange  that  fatal  inheritance  for  Oatlands,  which  cousin  Tyrell 
will  manage  for  me." 

"  You  insult  me  most  of  all  Veronica,  when  you  consider  me 
a  mercenary  wretch.  I  do  not  despise  the  noble  property  that  I 
was  brought  up  to  believe  myself  heir  to,  but,  if  I  fail,  in  losing 
you  I  lose  so  much  that  let  whoever  will  take  Castleton  !  What 
is  it  Veronica  ?  What  has  damaged  in  your  opinion  the  com 
panion  of  your  childhood — the  boy-lover,  to  whom  you  gave 
your  childish  love.  Oh !  Veronica — Veronica,  if  I  could 
only  blot  out  the  years  that  stand  between  us  and  our  child 
hood." 

"  You  cannot.  And  the  follies  of  those  unripe  years  I  wish 
to  forget  entirely,"  said  Veronica. 

"  Veronica  do  you  despise  me  because  when  I  grew  up  and 
had  not  seen  you,  as  you  know,  for  several  years,  I  was  attracted 
by  a  vain  and  showy  woman,  some  years  older  than  I  am  ? 
— ask  Molly  if  I  have  not  had  occasion  to  rejoice  over  my 
escape  from  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre." 

"  Indeed — indeed  Veronica,  all  this  is  true.  You  should  not 
judge  a  man  by  his  boy-loves."  I  said.  "  Max  has  long  been 
truly  glad  that  Sir  Colin  Nasmyth  married  Lady  Ellen,  lie 
has  told  me  often,  and  has  told  papa  that  if  there  had  been 
no  condition  in  the  will  he  should  have  come  out  to  Virginia, 
and  have  tried  to  "make  you  love  him ;  and  Max  is  truth  itself, 
Veronica," 

"  Veronica,"  said  Max,  "  I  not  only  was  not  in  love  with  Lady 
Ellen  Maclntyre " 

Veronica  shook  her  head.  But  Max  persisted — "  yes,  I  main 
tain  it  was  a  boy's  rash  fascination,  and  not  full-hearted  love  that 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  195 

I  felt  for  Lady  Ellen.  I  have  never  loved  any  woman  but  your 
self,  Veronica." 

I  wanted  to  go  away,  but  Veronica  grasped  me  by  the  dress. 

"  I  loved  you  with  the  pure,  fresh  love  of  boyhood,  and  though 
I  own  with  shame  that  my  heart  was  attracted  from  you  at  the 
opening  of  my  young  man's  life,  your  image  lay  in  its  depths 
and  was  always  my  ideal.  Veronica,  I  see  you  now  more  beauti 
ful  than  you  have  ever  appeared  to  me  in  dreams.  I  compare 
you  in  my  heart  with  the  lady  in  Comus,  about  whom  you  and 
I  have  read  so  often  from  the  same  old  book  at  Castleton — you 
seem  to  me  as  she  appeared  among  the  satyrs,  when  I  watch  you 
here.  Do  not  imagine  that  I  am  chiefly  charmed  by  your  beauty, 
it  is  every  word  you  speak — sincere  and  honest  on  the  side  of 
right  and  truth — that  as  it  drops  from  your  lips  is  gathered  in 
my  heart  and  becomes  precious  to  me.  It  is  the  sweet  kindliness 
which  reflects  from  you  on  every  living  thing,  insect  or  animal, 
or  on  the  little  slave,  or  the  infirm  old  aunt,  who  loves  you. 
Veronica,  why  am  I  alone  to  have  no  share  in  this  benevolence  ? 
How  have  I  been  so  unhappy  as  to  be  despised  by  you  ?" 

"  Leave  me  in  peace,"  she  said,  bursting  into  tears  and  hiding 
her  face  on  my  shoulder. 

"  Veronica,  one  kinder  word !"  persisted  Max. 

"  No — no,"  she  cried,  "  you  see  that  it  is  only  by  the  old 
manner  that  I  can  prove  how  unwelcome  your  attentions  are  to 
me.  You  convince  me  of  it  more  than  ever." 

I  made  a  motion  to  Max,  who  turned  away  and  walked  back 
into  the  drawing-room. 

I  passed  my  arm  around  my  cousin's  waist  and  she  threw  hers 
round  mine,  in  Avhich  position  we  Avalked  for  several  minutes, 
without  speaking,  up  and  down  the  porch.  At  length  Veronica 
broke  silence. 


196  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  Molly,"  said  she,  "  perhaps  you  know  that  on  that  evening 
when  he  told  you  all  about  his  love  for  that  beautiful  Scotch 
lady — I  was  standing  in  the  bow-window  at  Castleton.  I 
could  not  get  away  without  being  seen,  and  I  was  afraid  to 
appear.  I  overheard  all  that  Max  was  saying  to  you  Molly. 
I  heard  him  say,  and  I  admired  him  for  it  then,  that  nothing 
should  tempt  him  to  carry  a  false  faith  to  a  woman  he  did 
not  love — not  though  he  was  bribed  to  it  with  two  Castletons! 
I  cannot  describe  to  you,  Molly,  how  I  felt  when  I  found  that  all 
his  generous  and  truthful  enthusiasm  was  considered  as  the  folly 
of  past  years,  and  that  he  was  coming  to  Virginia,  with  the  object 
(as  I  could  not  but  suppose)  of  fulfilling  the  condition  of  my 
uncle's  will,  and  offering  one  for  whom  he  had  no  love,  his  hand 
without  his  heart,  bartering  his  truth  and  faith  for  the  inheri 
tance  of  Castleton.  It  destroyed  all  my  old  fancies  about  Max. 
I  ceased  to  think  him  as  he  used  to  be — generous  and  true." 

"Veronica,  after  what  Max  has  said,  can  you  believe  these 
things  ?  Do  you  not  feel,  that  however  he  may  have  swerved 
from  his  first  love  to  you  to  Lady  Ellen,  he  brings  you  back  a 
manlier  love  now  that  his  powers  are  matured.  His  very  con 
fession  of  that  one  false  step  in  life,  is  true  and  manly." 

"  Yes,"  said  Veronica,  "  I  know  better  now ;  and  I  am  glad 
— more  glad  than  I  can  say — to  feel  he  is  the  Max  he  used  to 
be  :  I  ask  and  wish  no  more.  But  Molly,  while  I  do  him  justice, 
and  am  willing  to  believe  that  in  what  he  says  to  me  he  means 
to  be  sincere,  I  cannot  but  think  that  you  and  he  are  very  much 
deceived,  if  you  believe  he  cares  for  me  more  than  he  cares  for 
Castleton  :  the  man  knows  better  than  the  youth  the  value  that 
a  fine  estate  confers,  in  the  world's  eyes,  on  its  possessor.  He  is 
no  longer  in  lovo  'vith  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre;  he  no  longer 
reproaches  int-  \\ii!i  !.i-  !<>>:  !i.i[>pine?s,  and  no  other  woman  hav- 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  19Y 

ing  captivated  his  fancy,  lie  is  deceiving  himself  into  the  belief 
that  his  affections  will  follow  his  interests  ;  whereas  I  am,  at  the 
best,  but  an  unobjectionable  condition  attached  to  the  possession 
of  Castleton.  Molly,  believe  me,  these  convenient  marriages  may 
do  well  enough  for  persons  who  have  outlived  the  probability  of 
more  passionate  affection.  But  a  woman  never  so  rashly  risks  her 
happiness  as  when  she  marries  a  man  who  does  not  love  her  well 
enough  to  guard  him  from  the  misfortune  of  sooner  or  later 
meeting  some  other  woman  he  may  truly  love.  No,  Molly,  my 
happiness  is  my  own,  and  at  this  moment  I  hold  his  in  my  keep 
ing.  I  am  not  going  to  risk  the  happiness  of  both." 

The  next  morning  I  woke  early,  and  saw  the  first  line  of  golden 
light  break  over  the  mountain.  The  household  had  been  astir 
before  I  was  awake.  Fifteen  or  twenty  horses  were  tied  about  in 
the  wood  ;  for  every  good  riding-horse  in  the  neighborhood  had 
been  hospitably  placed  at  our  disposal.  My  sorrel  pony  was 
fastened  a  little  apart  from  the  rest,  undergoing  a  course  of 
curry-comb,  with  cousin  Tyrell  standing  over  him,  to  see  it  was 
done  properly.  I  stood  for  several  minutes  watching  cousin 
Tyrell,  who  was  looking  fixedly  at  the  pony  and  at  the  old 
negro.  There  was  not  the  same  animation  about  him  that  there 
was  in  others  of  the  party,  and  he  seemed  to  be  indulging  some 
sad  train  of  thought.  But  he  had  shaken  it  all  off  when  we  met 
him  at  the  breakfast-table,  where  most  of  us  Avere  too  much 
excited  to  eat  anything ;  and  before  seven  we  were  mounted, 
our  train  being  swelled  by  a  good  many  other  guests  from 
Fighterstown  and  its  neighborhood. 

Cousin  Virginia  and  her  little  girls  went  in  the  carriage,  with 
"  all  appliances  and  means  to  boot,"  for  our  toilets  at  the  dinner 
party.  Uncle  Israel  was  to  take  charge  of  them  to  the  river 
side,  whence  1'kil  promised  to  drive  the  carriage.  We  had 


198  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

several  servants  to  act  as  out-riders  and  gate-openers,  mounted 
on  the  horses  too  much  out  of  condition  for  their  masters ; 
and  one  young  fellow,  ou  a  Rosinanto  of  the  leanest  kind,  ran 
the  gauntlet  of  jokes,  led  by  Phil  and  Mr.  Morrison,  on  the  flock 
of  crows  said  to  be  following  the  party  for  the  sake  of  his  horse, 
which  indeed  looked  like  "  crows'-meat,"  until,  in  a  fit  of  the 
sulks,  he  fell  into  the  rear ;  and  neither  orders  nor  persuasions 
could  bring  him  up  again  with  the  main  party. 

Max  was  well  mounted,  and  rode  by  the  side  of  Veronica, 
whose  steed,  the  Blue-tail  Fly,  was  a  beautiful  white  pony, 
raised  on  the  estate  of  Governor  Tyrell.  I  was  on  Angelo 
(worthy  of  his  name  !)  and  Tyrell  was  my  cavalier,  on  a  magnifi 
cent  grey  horse,  the  admiration  of  everybody. 

"  We  saw  you  this  morning,  when  you  were  superintending 
the  toilette  of  Angelo,"  said  I  to  Tyrell.  "You  seemed  in  a 
brown  study." 

Tyrell  started. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  you  saw  me  then  ? — you  and  your  cousin 
Veronica  ?  But  I  am  not  in  a  brown  study  now ;  I  should  be 
ashamed  to  be  ill-tempered  in  your  agreeable  society." 

"Thank  you,"  said  I.  "But  tell  me  about  Angelo  :  he  has  a 
wicked  eye  ;  is  he  perfectly  safe  I  Ills  paces  are  as  easy  as  a 
rocking-chair." 

"What  shall  I  tell  you?"  said  Tyrell.  "It  is  true  that  most 
Virginia  horses,  like  most  Virginia  men,  have  something  original 
and  distinctive  in  their  characters.  Angelo  was  mv  horse  when 
I  was  a  boy,  and  has  always  been  a  pet  in  the  family.  He  is  an 
admirable  lady's  horse — perfectly  safe  if  I  am  by  to  see  you 
mount  him ;  but  he  suffers  no  negro  and  no  woman  to  handle 
him, 'unless  when  in  the  saddle. .  Old  Uncle  Tony,  who  takes  care 
of  him,  and  whom  lie  follows  like  a  dog,  is  the  sole  exception." 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  199 

"  I  like  him  exceedingly,"  I  cried.  "  How  came  Veronica 
to  give  him  up  ?" 

"  My  father  had  been  raising  the  Blue-tail  for  her  use,  and 
she  sent  home  Angelo  when  we  had  broken  him." 

After  a  pause,  "  Cousin  Tyrell,"  said  I,  "  does  anybody  read 
books  in  Virginia  ?  I  have  seen  nothing  since  I  came  newer 
than  Johnson's  Lives  of  the  Poets,  and  a  torn  copy  of  Rienzi. 
xVs  to  correspondence — I  asked  Mr.  Morrisson  for  a  pen,  and  he 
went  out  into  the  yard  and  pulled  me  one  of  a  goose's  tail 
feathers,  which  did  not  profit  me,  as  it  turned  out,  for  Phil  had 
been  blacking  his  boots  with  the  ink,  and  had  not  left  a  drop  in 
the  bottle." 

Tyrell  laughed.  "  I  was  once  in  a  valley  about  sixty  miles 
from  here,  high  up  in  the  mountains  with  a  friend,  who  wanted 
to  write  a  letter  to  his  wife  in  Baltimore.  lie  put  a  negro  on  a 
horse  and  sent  him  round  the  country  to  borrow  a  sheet  of  writ 
ing  paper.  The  man  was  gone  all  day  and  returned  at  night 
fall  with  no  better  "  raise "  than  the  fly-leaf  from  the  Bible 
of  a  Methodist  farmer.  However  Mr.  Morrisson  has  quite  a 
library." 

"  Where  does  he  keep  his  books  ?" 

"  In  the  attic  where  I  slept  last  night.  I  turned  the  barrel 
which  contains  them,  bottom  up,  having  in  former  visits  read  the 
books  upon  the  top  of  it,  and  sat  up  untill  my  candle-end  burnt 
out  reading  an  old-fashioned  French  novel." 

Veronica  here  passed  us  riding  fast  with  Max,  but  attended  by 
Jefferson  "Wayland,  whom  she  contrived  to  keep  beside  her,  while 
cousin  Philip,  on  his  crop-eared  horse,  hovered  around.  Tyrell 
and  I  did  not  put  our  horses  into  a  canter,  but  a  long  silence 
ensued  as  we  both  looked  after  them. 

"  Cousin  Tyrell,"  said  I,  "  are  you  envying  Max  ?" 

"  I  ?     No,"  said  he.     "  What  makes  you  say  so  ?" 


200  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  Oh !  don't  get  excited,"  I  replied.  "  I  had  no  right  to  attack 
you.  I  only  meant  that  as  you  seem  very  little  disposed  to  talk  to 
me,  you  might  have  been  better  satisfied  with  the  company  of 
Veronica.  I  think,  however,  that  Max  is  to  be  envied.  You 
know  the  terms  of  the  will ;  I  am  watching  them  with  great 
interest,  and  I  can  assure  you  he  is  falling  very  heartily  in  love 
with  Veronica." 

"  And  she  with  him  ?"  said  Tyrell.  "  I  venture  to  ask  you  this 
because  you  introduced  the  subject,  cousin  Molly." 

"  I  do  not  understand  Veronica,"  I  replied.  "  She  is  not  the 
same  frank  girl  we  used  to  know  at  Castleton.  I  do  not  doubt, 
however,  that  Max  will  win  his  suit  whenever  he  can  convince 
her  that  he  loves  her." 

"  I  wish  he  may, "  said  Tyrell.  "  Now,  Miss  Molly,  is  the 
moment  for  trying  Angelo  in  a  gallop ;  it  is  a  smooth  piece  of 
road." 

We  were  Hearing  the  mountain  ridge  at  every  step.  The  road, 
which  was  turnpike,  skirted  magnificent  old  woods ;  and  noble 
fields  of  wheat,  stirred  by  the  breeze  like  the  unquiet  surface  of 
some  green  Swiss  lake,  waved  upon  either  side  of  us.  There 
•was  scarcely  any  grass  land,  but  in  the  summer  season  this 
deficiency  was  not  observed,  for  the  wheat  still  was  in  its  un- 
ripened  greenness.  Our  way  to  the  river  was  almost  a  continuous 
gentle  descent,  and  the  only  thing  wanted  by  the  landscape  was 
a  greater  abundance  of  water.  I  had  never  travelled  through 
any  country  so  diversified  by  knolls  and  dells.  There  was  not  a 
flat  ten  yards,  I  think,  in  any  field  we  passed  between  Clairmont 
and  the  river.  Within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  Shenandoah 
the  descent  became  very  steep.  The  high  banks  dotted  with 
fruit-trees,  sloped  to  the  ferry.  A  picturesque  old  saw-mill  stood 
a  little  apart,  upon  the  river  bank,  and  a  store,  a  tavern,  and  one 
or  two  frame  houses  were  grouped  around  the  ferry. 


I 


OUR      COUSIN      VEROXICA.  201 

We  stopped  to  let  the  horses  rest  and  wait  for  the  rest  of  the 
party. 

"  How  beautiful !  How  wonderfully  beautiful !"  I  cried  to 
Veronica. 

"  Yes.  '  Every  prospect  pleases  and  only  man  is  vile  ',"  was 
her  answer.  "  This  is  the  scene  of  an  awful  tragedy.  And  that 
man,"  pointing  to  the  master  of  the  inn,  whose  civilities  were 
being  declined  by  the  gentlemen,  "  is  a  murderer." 

"  Tell  me  about  it."  I  cried. 

But  the  Blue-tail  was  a  little  restive,  and  kept  backing  towards 
the  edge  of  the  river.  The  man  in  question  noticed  it  and  came 
forward  to  take  the  horse  by  the  bridle  and  quiet  him ;  but  as 
he  approached,  and  Veronica  perceived  his  purpose,  she  gave 
the  pony  a  sudden  cut  with  her  riding-whip ;  it  reared,  plunged, 
started,  and  in  another  moment  horse  and  rider  disappeared  over 
the  edge  of  the  bank,  plunging  as  it  seemed  to  me  into  the 
water. 

I  screamed.  Phil,  Max,  and  Tyrell  at  the  same  moment  sprang 
over  the  bank  after  her.  But  no  great  harm  was  done.  She  Avas 
only  pale  and  frightened,  and  trembled  so  that  she  could  hardly 
stand  as  she  dismounted,  and  stood  clinging  to  the  arm  of  Tyrell. 

"  What  did  you  do  it  for  ?  How  could  you  be  so  rash  ?"  he 
cried.  And  she  trembling  and  shrinking  gathered  her  skirts 
round  her,  saying  in  a  low  voice : 

"  I  could  not  help  it.     But  he  did  not  touch  me." 

The  rest  of  the  party  came  up. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?" 

"  Nothing  particular,  only  Veronica  was  frightened." 

"  Frightened  at  what  ?" 

"  At  that  man,"  I  cried.     "  What  is  the  story  about  him?" 

"  Never  mind  that  story,"  said  Mr.  Morrisson. 

9* 


202  o  u  H    c  o  r  s  i  x     VERONICA. 

" ' Oh  no, — we  never  mention  it '  to  anybody  raised  north  of 
Mason's  and  Dixon's  line,"  said  Phil.  "  Don't  tell  it  to  her,  pray, 
sister." 

"  Are  you  going  to  bait  the  horses  ?" 

"  Not  here.  Uncle  Israel  has  brought  a  couple  of  buckets  and 
we  will  stop  half  a  mile  further  down  the  river." 

Here  Tyrell  came  up  to  the  carnage. 

"  Mrs.  Morrisson,"  he  said,  "  can  you  make  room  for  Miss 
Veronica  ?  After  the  alarm  she  feels  hardly  equal  to  the  ride." 

"  (Certainly,"  said  cousin  Virginia.  "  One  of  the  children  will 
take  her  pony.  Get  out  Walter,  and  take  the  Blue-tail.  Bring 
her  here,  Tyrell." 

He  gave  Veronica  his  arm,  placed  her  beside  cousin  Virginia, 
saw  that  she  was  comfortably  established,  mounted  his  own  grey 
horse  with  a  light  spring,  gallopped  to  the  front,  and  rode  beside 
me  very  gravely  and  silently. 

"  Who  was  that  man  ?"  I  asked  him  at  length. 

"  A  wretch,"  lie  replied,  "  called  Jacob  Gibson,  who  in  a 
drunken  fit  tortured  one  of  his  own  servants  till  the  man  died  in 
consequence  of  his  brutal  treatment." 

"  And  he  was  never  tried  for  it  ?" 

"  He  was  tried  for  willful  murder,  but  there  was  not  positive 
legal  proof  enough  to  convict  him.  Your  kinsman,  William 
Williams,  a  sharp  lawyer  when  he's  sober,  got  him  off,  and 
there  is  now  nothing  to  be  done,  but  to  leave  him  to  the  influ 
ence  of  public  opinion,  which  I  hope  will  drive  him  from  the 
neighborhood.  You  observed  none  of  our  party  would  notice 
him." 

"  Dear  me !"  said  I,  "  I  came  into  Virginia,  thinking  a  great 
deal  about  slavery,  but  since  I  have  been  here  I  have  had  no 
time  to  think  of  anything.  The  sen-ants  about  me  have  seemed 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  203 

very  lazy,  very  obliging,  and  very  happy,  and  the  subject  has 
slipped  from  my  mind." 

"  Let  it,"  replied  Tyrell,  shortly.  "  The  less  you  think  of  it 
the  better.  It  is  for  us  to  think  of  it,  not  you.  You  have  no 
business  in  the  quarter." 

At  the  halting-place,  under  the  shadow  of  a  mighty  elm,  after 
my  pony  had  been  watered,  Max  came  to  my  side. 

"  This  is  a  very  good  piece  of  road,"  he  said,  "  let  us  ride  on, 
Molly." 

I  assented,  woman-like  always  ready  for  fast  riding,  and  we 
had  gallopped  about  two  hundred  yards  when  we  were  brought 
by  a  deep  mud-hole. 

"This  will  do,"  said  Max,  when  we  had  passed  it.  "Draw 
your  rein,  Molly,  and  talk.  I  seldom  get  a  chance  to  talk  to 
you." 

"  Did  you  have  a  pleasant  talk  with  cousin  Veronica  ?"  I 
asked,  as  he  seemed  to  hesitate  before  opening  the  conversation. 

"No,"  he  replied.  "That  coxcomb,  Mr.  "Wayland,  forced 
himself  upon  us.  But  she  encouraged  him.  She  cannot  mean 
to  marry  him,  I  should  think." 

"  Oh  !  no,"  I  answered,  "  I  am  sure  not.     He  is  such  a  fool." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I  have  found  out,  Molly,"  continued  Max, 
"  she  does  not  think  me  good  enough  for  her." 

"  Oh  !  Max,"  said  I,  "  I  do  not  know  where  she  would  find 
any  one  more  generous,  high  principled,  and  affectionate  than 
you." 

"  Affectionate  !  God  knows,  I'd  love  her  as  never  any  woman, 
I  think,  was  loved  before.  But  I  cannot  dance  attendance  on 
her  calmly,  and  see  her  smiling  at  Wayland,  and  clinging  to 
Tyrell,  and  finding  myself  no  where.  I  cannot  stand  it 
patiently.  Patience  is  a  mean  rascally  virtue.  I  like  to  do 


204  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

things  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment.  I  am  getting  frightfully 
in  love  with  her." 

"  And  Max,"  I  said,  "  I  think  she  is  worthy  of  your  deepest 
attachment.  As  Tyrell  says,  she  is  a  prize  worth  striving  for." 

"  What  does  Tyrell  know  about  her  ? "  he  said  shortly.  "  Good 
Heaven !  if  I  only  stood  in  Tyrell's  place — if  my  suit  were  not 
hampered  by  that  foolish  will !  Don't  you  believe  it  is  that 
which  makes  her  avoid  me  I — Or  do  you  think  (lowering 
his  voice)  that  she  thinks  me  a  poor  devil,  quite  unworthy 
of  her?  You  women  know  each  other  best.  Is  that  it,  do  you 
think,  Molly  ?" 

"I  do  not  know,"  I  answered.  "I  have  had  so  little  experi 
ence  that  I  am  not  fit  to  give  you  advice,  but  I  think  from  what 
she  said  last  evening,  that  as  you  were  once  very  much  in  love 
with  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre,  she  is  not  disposed  to  believe  in  your 
change  of  feeling  towards  her." 

O  O 

"  Lady  Ellen  Maclntyre  !"  said  Max,  with  contempt.  "  It  was  a 
boy's  first  fancy  for  a  showy  woman  of  the  world,  who  was  half 
a  dozen  years  his  senior.  I  am  ashamed  to  recollect  that  busi 
ness.  A  man  out-grows  a  woman  of  that  kind,  and  by  the  time 
he  is  matured,  wants  freshness,  sweetness,  and  above  all,  truth. 
Well !  I  deserve  to  sutler,  I  suppose.  I  threw  away  my  chance  of 
happiness  when  I  disowned  my  engagement  to  Veronica — but 
then  I  was  not  old  enough  to  love  her.  And  as  to  being  worthy 
of  her  love — I  never  shall  be." 

"  Indeed,  you  think  too  little  of  yourself,  dear  Max.  Are  you 
not  handsome,  rich,  and  good.  And  is  there  not  every  thing, 
even  in  the  will,  to  make  her  care  for  vou  ?" 

"  She  will  never  see  me  with  your  partial  eyes,  dear  Mollv. 
But  tell  me  what  to  do,  for  she  repels  my  suit  at  every  point, 
and  baffles  me  completely." 


OUR      COUSIII'     VERONICA.  205 

"  Be  what  you  are,  dear  Max,"  I  cried.  "  Truth  is  your  noblest 
quality.  Be  better  than  you  are,  and  you  will  win  her.  I  pro 
phesy  it  with  all  certainty.  But  be  patient,  learn  self-discipline. 
What  are  we,  that  all  our  wishes  should  be  granted  as  quickly 
as  we  form  them  ?" 


206  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Chacun  de  vous  peut-Stre  en  son  coeur  solitaire, 
Sous  des  rig  passagers  6touffe  un  long  regret ; 

H61as !  nous  souffrons  ici  sur  la  terre, 
Et  nous  souffrons  tous  en  secret. 

REGRET.    VICTOR  HUGO. 

HERE  Wallic  on  the  Blue-tail  rode  up  to  say  that  we  were 
getting  into  a  worse  road,  and  that  cousin  Philip  said  we  had 
better  wait  for  the  rest  of  the  party.  The  road  along  Avhich  we 
had  passed  was  unusually  free  from  limestone,  having  been  made 
through  alluvial  soil  on  the  extreme  verge  of  the  bank  of  the 
river.  Alders,  and  pollard  willows,  and  low  underbrush  grew 
down  the  sides  of  the  steep  bank  and  overhung  the  water.  On 
the  other  side  of  the  Shenandoah,  the  fir-clad  Ridge  appeared  to 
rise  abruptly  from  the  river.  There  were  awful  gaps  and 
chasms  in  the  road,  which,  to  our  English  eyes,  seemed  quite 
impassable  for  any  four-wheeled  vehicle ;  nevertheless,  the  car 
riage  came  on  slowly,  driven  by  Phil,  and  surrounded  by  a 
body-guard  of  gentlemen  and  servants,  ready  to  give  a  hand  in 
any  emergency — to  mend  the  harness,  pry  the  carriage  out  of 
mud-holes,  pull  down  fence-rails  to  admit  it  into  fields  (when 
the  road  was  completely  broken  up  by  the  spring  freshets),  or 
hold  it  up  by  main  strength  on  one  side  when  it  tipped  too 
alarmingly  towards  the  river. 

A  worse  rnnd  was  before  us,  when  we  turned  into  the  woods, 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  207 

where  the  way  was  rnarkedonlyjby  an  ancient  wagon-track,  or 
by  burnt  stumps  of  giant  trees,  on  one  of  which,  Phil  having 
miscalculated  the  height  of  his  wheels,  impaled  the  carnage. 
The  party  in  it  all  got  out,  the  horses  were  unfastened,  and  the 
barouche  was  lifted  by  the  gentlemen — each  putting  his  shoulder 
to  the  wheel  very  literally. 

We  forded  a  mill-stream  at  one  place — carriage  and  eques 
trians  passing  over  the  top  of  the  dam — the  rushing  waters 
"  tottering  to  their  fall "  beneath  the  verv  feet  of  our  horses,  who 

O  «/ 

were  slipping  on  the  large,  round  stones  that  formed  the  bed  of 
the  impetuous  little  water-course.  Through  a  second  such 
stream,  near  its  junction  with  the  Shenandoah,  we  drove  up  to 
Stonehenge,  cousin  Tyrell  assuring  us  with  a  laugh  that  we  had 
chosen  much  the  best  approach  to  it — the  road  on  the  other  side 
of  the  house  being  impassable. 

Stonehenge  was  not  a  handsome  establishment,  having  been 
built  originally  for  an  overseer.  It  was  a  straggling  building,  of 
rough,  yellow  stone,  redeemed  from  ugliness  by  an  abundance 
of  roses,  which  climbed  every  where  about  the  walls  and 
porches.  The  river  was  two  hundred  yards  or  so  from  the 
house,  and  beyond  it  rose  the  mountain. 

Governor  Tyrell  met  us  with  his  stately  welcome,  and  after 
the  gentlemen  had  been  refreshed  by  apple  toddy  at  the  buffet 
according  to  the  old-fashioned  custom,  and  we  ladies  had  stood 
half-an-hour  in  the  drawing-room,  we  went  up  stairs  to  take 
off  our  riding-skirts,  to  repair  our  toilettes  and  compare  notes 
of  our  adventures, 

Every  room  we  went  into  had  a  plurality  of  beds,  for  Virginia 
hospitality,  which  has  n  welcome  for  every  guest,  is  sometimes 
driven  to  accommodate  them  in  very  crowded  quarters. 

"I  never  was  so  mortified   as  to  find  the  carriage  had  been 


208  OUR     COUSIN"      VKROXICA. 

left  in  the  woods  all  night,  and  the  whole  flock  of  turkeys  must 
needs  roost  there.  It  took  Mr.  Morrisson  and  Phil  two  hours  to 
get  it  properly  fixed  up.  Tyrell  started  the  turkeys  out  of  it 
before  day-light,"  said  cousin  Virginia. 

"  Phil  and  Mr.  Morrisson  teased  George  so  unmercifully  about 
his  horse,  that  I  am  afraid  he  has  turned  about  and  gone  home, 
and  he  has  all  my  combs  and  brushes  in  his  saddle-bags,"  said 
Veronica. 

"  George  thinks  himself  a  mighty  great  beau  among  his  own 
folks,  and  didn't  like  to  have  to  ride  that  horse.  Whenever 
George  dresses  up,  he  takes  his  hair  out  of  the  little  plaits  he 
wears  to  straighten  it.  I  reckon  there  is  most  a  hundred  of 
them.  Old  marm  Venus  told  me  he  got  up  in  the  middle 
of  the  night  this  morning  to  fix  it,"  observed  one  of  the 
children  who  lived  more  in  the  "  quarter "  than  she  did  in  the 
parlor. 

In  about  an  hour  we  were  dressed.  Cousin  Virginia  made  a 
point  of  my  wearing  the  best  silk  dress  I  had,  which  happened 
to  be  a  sky-blue  ball  dress,  entirely  unfit  for  a  country  dinner 
party.  But  "  the  best  we  had"  appeared  to  be  the  rule ;  and  the 
various  "  bests"  were  not  congruously  assorted.  Veronica,  still 
in  mourning  for  her  uncle,  wore  a  dress  of  white  muslin  ;  and 
going  into  the  garden  where  she  had  observed  a  smoke-plant, 
she  twined  some  of  its  feathery  sprays  into  her  hair,  till  .she 
looked  as  if  her  head  were  dressed  with  marabouts. 

Our  toilettes  completed,  we  adjourned  in  a  body  to  the  draw 
ing-room  to  spend  the  dreary  hour  that  precedes  the  call  to 
dinner.  The  ladies  sat  apart,  and  had  nothing  to  say.  The 
gentlemen  gathered  into  knots,  and  seemed  equally  at  a  loss  for 
conversation';  till  Phil,  making  an  effort,  crossed  the  line  in  the 
carpet  which  divided  male  and  female,  and  drawing  up  a  chair, 


OUR      COUSIN      VEUONICA.  209 

asked  me  confidentially,  in  a  low  whisper,  "  if  I  was  afeard  of 
frogs  ?" 

;'  Cousin  Phil !"  said  I,  "  what  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  Nothing,"  said  he,  "  except  that  I  never  heard  that  question 
well  circulated,  with  proper  gravity  of  voice,  fail  to  break  up  the 
stiffness  of  a  dinner-party.  Pass  it  on  to  your  next  neighbor." 

By  the  time  the  circle  was  beginning  to  thaw  under  the 
influence  of  this  "  interrogatory,"  Mr.  Morrisson  came  up  and 
asked  what  I  thought  of  Stonehenge  ?  Whether  I  should  like  it 
for  a  residence?  Whether  I  had  found  my  cousin  Tyrell 
agreeable  ?  and  other  questions  at  which  I  could  not  wisely  take 
offence,  because  they  could  be  referred  to  a  very  natural  interest 
in  the  home  of  my  forefathers,  but  which  I  perfectly  well  knew 
were  covert  allusions  to  the  supposed  attentions  of  Tyrell. 

I  was  thankful  when  Phil's  eyes  lighted  on  an  old  square 
piano  in  a  corner,  and  he  insisted  I  should  play  on  it  for  the 
amusement  of  the  company. 

Music  soon  charmed  away  the  stiffness  that  still  lingered  in 
the  circle ;  and  when  dinner  was  announced,  Tyrell  was  giving 
us  an  endless  rigmarole  of  negro  nonsense,  set  to  a  plaintive 
melody,  and  accompanied  by  admirable  gesticulation,  while  the 
company  joined  effectively  in  the  chorus,  which  strung  together 
each  dislocated  stanza  on  the  same  thread  with  its  fellows — 

'  Jenny  get  your  hoe-cake  done,  my  darling  ! 
Jenny  get  your  hoe-cake  done,  my  love  !' 

Governor  Tyrell,  in  spite  of  the  diplomatic  experiences  of  his 
younger  days,  was  too  genuine  a  Virginian  not  to  have  extended 
his  invitations  without  reference  to  the  number  of  his  chairs,  or 
to  the  length  of  his  mahogany.  We  were  a  party  of  thirty-five ; 
the  tables  had  been  laid  for  twenty-eight ;  and  when  we  entered 


210  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

the  dining-room,  there  were  five  minutes  of  inextricable  con 
fusion.  Suddenly  I  heard  the  word  "side-table,"  and  made 
towards  it,  followed  by  half-a-dozen  others,  and  we  took  posses 
sion — Phil  occupying  a  seat  between  me  and  Miss  Jane  Dawes, 
a  pretty  young  girl,  to  whom  the  rumor  ran  that  he  was  paying 
attentions. 

Governor  Tyrell  had  led  cousin  Virginia  into  the  dining-room, 
had  placed  her  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  according  to 
Virginian  custom  surrounded  her  by  the  ladies  of  the  most  dis 
tinction,  amongst  whom  my  place  had  been  prepared,  whilst  the 
shy  young  men,  of  whom  there  is  always  a  supply  on  hand  at 
a  Virginia  dinner  party,  too  diffident  to  court  the  company  of 
ladies,  clustered  round  the  master  of  the  house  at  the  lower  end 
of  the  board. 

There  was  not  much  conversation  at  the  main  table.  A  super 
abundance  of  the  best  fare  being  provided,  the  chief  business  of 
a  Virginia  dinner  party  is  to  cat.  Indeed  it  would  be  hard  to 
sustain  conversation,  when  in  a  general  way  the  hosts  are  busy 
rectifying  the  mistakes  made  by  the  negroes,  a  great  number  of 
whom  are  running  in  each  other's  way  continually,  while  the 
little  darkeys  of  the  establishment,  attired  in  clean  pinafore?,  and 
entrusted  with  butter  boats,  are  continually  dripping  gravy  over 
you. 

Being  •  exiled  from  the  grand  feast  and  placed  under 
the  supervision  of  Tyrell,  who  in  the  exercise  of  hospitality 
had  recovered  his  spirits  and  made  a  famous  Lord  of  Mis 
rule,  we  had  a  less  supply  of  things  to  eat,  but  much  greater 
abundance  of  amusement  at  our  side-table.  Tyrell  detailed 
a  half-grown  negro  boy,  called  Adam,  for  our  service,  who 
supplied  us  with  a  set  of  casters,  and  being  repulsed  by 
the  elder  servants  in  every  attempt  to  destroy  the  symmetry 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  211 

of  the  great  table,  it  was  long  before  we  got  anything 
more. 

Can  I  describe  how  Philip,  to  the  great  amusement  of  Miss 
Jane,  pretended  to  compose  himself  to  sleep  to  still  the  pangs  of 
hunger  ? — how  in  despair  he  helped  himself  to  mustard  ? — how 
Miss  Jane  and  I,  who  had  been  early  served,  levied  contributions 
from  our  own  plates  for  his  dinner  ? — how  Tyrell  finding  Adam's 
services  of  "  no  account,"  took  on  himself  the  charge  of  foraging, 
and  disappearing  for  a  few  moments  returned  with  Phil's  plate 
heaped  with  some  of  every  dish  from  the  main  table  ? — how  quite 
a  feu  de  joie  of  lively  nonsense  was  let  off,  and  how  we  laughed 
and  were  all  delightfully  silly,  and  witty,  and  merry,  till  Mr.  Morris- 
son  from  the  great  table  frowned  upon  our  gaiety  ? — how  Philip 
and  Miss  Jane  prepared  a  glass  of  wine  with  cayenne,  salt  and 
vinegar,  and  sent  it  round  to  Weston  Carter  at  the  great  table, 
who  being  suspicious  sent  it  back,  and  Philip,  by  mistake,  drank 
it  up  eventually  ! 

Ah  !  me — it  was  all  childish  and  unrefined,  but  it  was  in  keep 
ing  with  the  total  change  of  manners  and  customs,  thoughts, 
characters,  and  scenery,  amongst  which  I  had  fallen  in  four  short 
weeks  since  I  had  left  England.  I  enjoyed  it.  It  was  genuine. 
The  girls  had  not  begun  to  put  on  airs  or  graces  and  to  ape 
city  life  as  they  have  since  done.  Human  nature  cast  aside  con 
ventionality  and  came  out  human.  And  Tyrell,  a  man  of  high 
cultivation  and  more  knowledge  of  the  world  than  I  could  ever 
attain  unto,  sanctioned  my  enjoyment  of  this  nonsense  by  his 
promotion  of  the  gaiety. 

Scenery  and  characters  less  novel  might  not  have  been  able  to 
withdraw  my  thoughts  from  the  trouble  which  for  months  had 
weighed  upon  my  spirits ;  but  nothing  in  my  present  way  of  life 


212  OUK     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

connected  Mr.  Howard  or  any  recollection  of  the  past  with  the 
world  around  me.     And  though 

I  thought  of  him  at  morning-tide 
And  thought  of  him  at  eve, 

I  confess  that  it  was  mostly  in  the  solitude  of  my  own  chamber. 
The  life  I  led  was  unfavorable  to  serious  thought.  I  caught  tho 
infection  of  the  general  idleness,  as  well  as  the  general  taste  for 
every  kind  of  broad  and  humorous  gaiety.  A  month  ago  I 
had  been  drooping  in  the  routine  of  my  home  life  in  our  dull 
English  garrison  ;  yet,  on  looking  back  to  the  first  fortnight  of 
my  Virginia  experience,  I  can  but  apply  to  it  the  words  of  a 
French  woman  of  the  world,  who  dwelling  upon  some  such 
passage  in  her  youth  has  told  us,  "  I  do  not  affirm  this  was  the 
happiest  period  of  my  life,  but  I  know  it  was  that  which  con 
tained  the  most  laughter." 

After  dinner  we  resumed  our  music  in  the  drawing-room  and 
sang  sentimental  songs  till  the  gentlemen  rejoined  us  ;  when 
Tyrell,  remembering  that  Max  and  I  must  wish  to  see  the  place, 
proposed  a  walk  to  us. 

The  idea  was  seized  by  the  whole  party,  but  Tyrell  with  his 
usual  thoughtfulness  sent  the  main  body  to  the  meadow  where 
his  father  kept  his  colts,  whilst  he,  the  Governor,  Veronica,  Max, 
and  I  walked  together  towards  the  little  grave-yard. 

It  had  been  awkwardly  placed  between  the  river  and  the  house, 
and  would  have  been  unsightly  in  the  midst  of  a  wide  field,  had 
not  its  low  stone  wall  been  covered  with  the  scarlet-leaved 
Virginia  creeper,  and  the  bareness  of  the  field  in  which  it  was 
situated  been  broken  by  some  ornamental  shrubs.  Here  lay  our 
grandmother  and  seven  infant  children,  who  had  gone  before 


OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA.  213 

her  through  that  rusty  iron  grating,  which  was  the  wicket  lead 
ing  to  the  pearly  gates  of  the  Celestial  City. 

I  was  pleased  to  see  that  either  by  the  care  of  Tyrell,  or  by 
that  of  some  of  the  old  servants  who  had  been  brought  up  by 
our  grandmother,  the  little  consecrated  plot  was  kept  in  such 
perfect  order  as  I  never  saw  in  any  other  grave-yard  in  Virginia  ; 
whilst  a  beautiful  white  multiflora  rose-tree  planted  at  the  head 
stone  shed  its  leaves  like  snow-flakes  over  our  gTandmother's 
grave. 

As  I  stood  in  silence  trying  to  recall  all  that  my  father  had 
told  me  of  her  habits  or  her  virtues,  Tyrell  gathered  me  one  of  the 
white  rose  buds,  and  presently  he  asked  me  whether  I  did  not 
see  great  beauty  in  the  German  term,  "  God's  acre,"  as  applied 
to  a  burial  ground  ? 

I  had  never  heard  of  it,  and  he  repeated : 

"  With  thy  rude  plough-share,  Death,  turn  up  the  sod 

And  spread  the  furrow  for  the  seed  we  sow, 
This  is  the  field  and  garden  of  our  God, 
This  is  the  place  where  human  harvests  grow." 

"  A  few  nights  since,"  1  said,  "  I  heard  a  morbid  yearning  after 
death  expressed  by  one  who  was  both  beautiful  and  young." 

"  It  probably  proceeded  from  a  want  of  trust  in  God's  good 
purposes,"  said  Tyrell.  "  When  smarting  from  the  chastisements 
of  the  harsh  school-mistress,  Life,  we  are  apt  to  stretch  out  our 
hands  despairingly  towards  her  calm  sister,  Death,  who  waits 
to  take  us  home.  But  when  wo  have  made  more  progress  in 
wisdom  (and  all  true  wisdom,  it  appears  to  me,  is  based  on 
faith),  we  no  longer  look  so  eagerly  for  her,  who,  when  the  ripe 
time  comes,  will  beckon  us  from  the  tasks  in  which  we  shall 
have  become  interested." 


214  OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA. 

"  Your  simile,  however,  fails,"  said  I.  "  The  child  comes  ba^lc 
to  his  old  tasks — that  which  he  has  learned  to-day  will  profit 
him  to-morrow,  but  we  never  come  back  again.  Death  cuts 
us  off  unfinished,  and  unripe.  What  will  the  lessons  we  have 
learned  profit  those  who  may  come  after  ?" 

"  I  always  liked  an  epitaph  that  I  once  read,"  he  said. 

"  Keader,  I  was  cut  off  in  my  spring-time  :  I  had  not  time  to  serve  God  much. 

"  Wilt  thou  not  serve  him  for  me  ?    And  so  the  purpose  that  was  in  me, 

"  Shall  bear  fruit  in  thy  life,  and  God's  cause  shall  be  served  by  the  living."' 

"  Can  this  be  so  ?"  I  cried. 

"  Indeed  it  can.  It  is  a  coward's  heart  that  spurns  the  gift  of 
life,  and  will  not  use  it  thankfully. 

"  Bear  what  life  has  laid  on  thee, 
"  And  forget  what  it  hath  taken. 

"  When  one  thinks  of  what  there  is  to  be  done — how  senseless 
giant  evils  everywhere  oppress  the  human  race,  how  the  most 
part  of  reformers  cast  out  devils  by  Beelzebub,  that  is  pit  evils 
one  against  the  other — I  could  wish  to  have  two  lives,  that  I 
might  do  my  little  part  in  the  world's  battle.  I  am  ashamed 
of  every  moment  of  past  weakness.  Not  to  fear  life  is  quite  as 
brave  as  not  to  be  afraid  of  death.  Either  fear,  it  seems  to  me,  is 
only  worthy  of  a  coward,"  and  his  fine  eyes  lighting  with  enthu 
siasm,  he  repeated  less  to  me  than  to  himself, 

"  Wilt  thou  not  feel  it  shame  and  grief  to  thee 
That  I  for  thy  sake  loved  less  fervently, 
Less  heartily  obeyed,  less  understood 
HIM  whom  we  then  shall  both  acknowledge  GOOD?" 

"Some  men  and  women,  too,"  he  added,  presently,  "have 
quenched  their  'courage  in  a  vain  regret,' — and  sacrificed  their 
lives  because  thev  could  uot  win  affection.  IIow  when  their 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  215 

Beatrice  shall  meet  them,  in  another  world,  will  they  bear 
to  see  reproach  upon  her  face,  and  how  endure  the  thought  that 
their  wasted  life  dishonored  her  ?  The  Knights  of  old  did  better 

O 

things.  I  have  a  Germanesque  fancy  for  the  chivalry  of  old. 
Cervantes  has  found  food  for  ridicule  in  feelings  that  commend 
themselves  to  every  brave  man's  heart.  In  the  days  of  woman- 
worship,  each  knight  inscribed  his  lady's  name  on  every  trophy, 
lie  sent  each  conquered  monster  to  her  court  to  do  her 
homage,  each,  blow  of  the  battle-axe  was  nerved  by  thoughts 
of  her — at  every  thrust  of  the  Damascus  blade,  her  hero  called 
upon  her  name,  and  every  new  danger  was  attempted  in  her 
honor.  And  thus,  whether  he  lived  or  died,  whether  he  won 
her  at  the  close  of  the  romance  or  never  saw  her  after  he  set 
out  in  search  of  giants  and  monsters,  she  was  associated  in  all 
his  triumphs,  and  by  the  hand  of  him  who  loved  her,  she  scat 
tered  blessings  through  the  world." 

The  dews  of  evening  were  falling  round  us,  I  stood  in  my  blue 
ball  dress,  with  no  covering  on  my  head,  listening  to  Tyrell. 
Max  had  walked  away  to  join  the  main  body  of  the  dinner 
guests.  Governor  Tyrell  and  Veronica  were  seated  on  the  low 
Avail  at  the  further  angle  of  the  little  grave-yard,  in  earnest  con 
versation,  when  suddenly  several  of  the  Governor's  two-year-old 
blood  colts,  Avho  had  been  chased  round  the  forty-acre  clover-field 
by  the  young  gentlemen  of  the  party,  eager  to  exhibit  the  beauti 
ful  movements  of  twenty  or  thirty  excited  untamed  horses  to  the 
ladies  who  were  sitting  on  the  fences, — leaped  over  the  enclo 
sure  and  came  gallopping  past  us  with  streaming  manes  and 
tails.  They  were  followed  by  all  the  rest  of  the  drove,  the 
heels  of  the  foremost  leapers  having  brought  down  the  highest 
fence  rail.  The  commotion  called  out  all  the  negroes,  and  a 

O  * 

scene  of  dire  confusion   then  took  place.     The  object  was  to 


216  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

drive  the  horses  back  into  their  pasture.  The  negroes  ran  and 
shouted — the  white  men  issued  contradictory  commands,  and 
urged  them  to  more  daring.  The  flock  of  frightened  ladies  in 
satin-slippers  and  gay  gowns,  sat  perched  upon  the  fence-rails 
screaming,  while  the  wild  horses,  graceful  in  every  movement, 
gallopped  in  wide  curves  round  and  round  the  pasture,  indulg 
ing,  as  they  pursued  their  headlong  course,  in  dangerous  play 
with  one  another. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  217 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

The  aun  may  darken — heaven  be  bowed — 

But  still  unchanged  shall  be 
Here  in  my  soul  that  moon-lit  cloud 

On  which  I  looked  with  thoe  ! 

MRS.  E.  B.  BROWNING. 

THE  evening  passed  in  music  and  gay  talk.  Veronica  said 
she  bad  a  headache,  which  she  attributed  to  her  morning's 
alarm,  and  she  retired  early.  The  pleasantest  part  of  the 
evening  to  me  was  a  quiet  half-hour  passed  with  Tyrell  in  a 
recess  behind  the  drawing-room  window  curtains,  while  he 
talked  of  German  ballads,  and  we  watched  the  rising  moon. 
She  came  with  one  attendant  cloud,  which  caught  her  light,  full, 
clear  and  stately  over  the  green  crest  of  the  mountain,  and  as 
we  watched  her,  Tyrell  repeated  some  few  lines  from  Shelley's 
Cloud,  a  poem  which  in  my  ignorance  I  had  never  heard  of  till 
that  moment,  but  ever  since,  whenever  I  have  looked  upon  a 
moonlight  night,  and  often  and  often,  when  with  a  heavy  heart 
I  have  stood  alone  at  my  dull  upper  window,  commanding  only 
a  view  of  London  tiles  and  variously  ugly  chimney  pots,  and 
watched  the  Queen  of  Night  close  muffled  in  her  foggy  saffron 
veil — the  scene  on  which  I  looked  has  changed  like  a  dissolving 
view,  and  in  place  of  the  tall  roofs  of  Bedford  Place,  I  have 
beheld  the  wooded  mountain,  and  over  it  the  summer  moon, 
stealing  forth  like  a  bride  out  of  her  chamber,  veiling  her 

10 


218  OUR,     COUSIN     VERONICA. 

beauty  under  gold  and  gossamer,  whilst  echoes  of  a  full,  rich 
voice,  softened  into  harmony  with  the  summer  twilight,  rang 
through  the  chambers  of  my  memory. 

And  wherever  the  beat  of  her  unseen  feet, 

Which  only  the  angels  hear, 
May  have  broken  the  woof  of  my  tent's  thin  roof, 

The  stars  peep  behind  her  and  peer; 
And  I  laugh  to  see  them  whirl  and  flee 

Like  a  swarm  of  golden  bees, 
When  I  widen  the  rent  in  my  wind-built  tent 

Till  the  calm  rivers,  lakes,  and  seas. 
Like  strips  of  the  sky  fallen  through  me  on  high, 

Are  each  paved  with  the  moon  and  with  these. 

The  Governor  had  made  an  appointment  with  Max  to  take  a 
very  early  breakfast,  and  ride  over  to  Oatlands,  the  estate  owned  by 
cousin  Lomax  in  the  Valley  of  Virginia.  They  set  off,  I  presume, 
before  I  was  awake,  but  when  I  opened  my  eyes,  Veronica,  in 
her  white  dressing-gown,  was  sitting  in  the  window  seat. 

She  looked  wretchedly  ill,  but  would  not  acknowledge  that 
she  had  a  headache,  and  the  moment  she  perceived  I  was  awake, 
rose  up,  and  with  the  calm  composure  with  which  she  met 
attempts  on  my  part  to  intrude  into  her  confidence,  she  shook 
down  her  golden  curls,  and  went  on  dressing. 

It  had  been  decided  the  night  before  that  all  the  party  should 
remain  another  day  at  Stonehenge,  and  go  over  to  the  Shannon- 
dale  Springs.  It  was  rather  early  in  the  season,  and  there  was 
not  much  fashion  at  the  little  watering-place  ;  but  we  should  have 
a  pretty  ride  of  half  a  dozen  miles  through  woods,  and  the  Gov 
ernor  and  his  son  were  eager  we  should  take  it,  so  about  eleven 
o'clock  all  the  horses  were  brought  up  to  the  door.  At  the  same 
moment  Max  and  the  Governor  rode  up  on  their  return  from  Oat- 
lands.  The  Governor  called  to  Diggory  to  bring  Captain  M;in- 
devillc  a  fresh  hors3,  and  another  pair  of  gaiters,  for  to  avoid  the 


O  U  II      COUSIN      VERONICA.  219 

mud  most  of  the  gentlemen  wore  green  baize  or  brown  Holland 
leggings,  frightful  to  look  at,  and  the  body  of  Governor  Tyrell's 
carriage,  which  had  been  ordered  out  for  Cousin  Veronica's  use, 

O     *  ' 

was  cased  for  the  same  reason  in  a  yellow  oil-skin  sheath,  still 
more  wonderful  to  behold. 

Max  sprang  from  his  horse,  and  without  disembarrassing  him 
self  of  these  gaiters,  stiff  with  mud,  which  he  had  been  with  diffi 
culty  persuaded  to  adopt  at  the  instance  of  the  Governor,  and 
which  no  Virginian  thought  presentable  in  the  presence  of  a  lady, 
came  impetuously  up  the  steps  of  the  porch  and  interrupted 
Tyrell  and  Weston  Carter,  who  were  talking  to  Veronica. 

"  Let  me  speak  to  you  !  I  have  something  I  must  say  to  you," 
he  began  eagerly. 

"For  any  matter  of  business,  cousin  Max,"  she  replied,  "I 
refer  you  to  the  Governor,  who  transacts  all  business  for  me." 

"Miss  Lomax's  Blue-tail  stops  the  way,"  cried  out  Phil 
Ormsby,  and  giving  her  hand  to  "Weston  Carter,  without 
another  look  at  Max,  she  went  down  the  steps  and  sprang  into 
her  saddle. 

Max  remained  standing  where  she  left  him.     The  rest  of  the 

O 

party  mounted  and  set  off.  Diggory  was  holding  Angelo  beside 
the  horse-block,  while  Tyrell,  who  was  to  ride  with  me,  was 
tightening  the  girths  of  the  saddle. 

I  looked  up  in  my  brother's  face,  and  seeing  that  something 
was  very  much  amiss,  I  hesitated  to  leave  him. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  rousing  himself  after  a  few  moments,  "  let 
me  put  you  on  your  horse,  and  see  you  join  the  party." 

"  Dear  Max,"  I  said,  "  I  do  not  want  to  go  until  you  tell 
me  what  has  happened.  Tell  me,  dear.  I  shall  be  unhappy 
if  I  do  not  know  what  has  gone  wrong  between  you  and 
Veronica." 


220  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Here  Tyrell  came  towards  us,  leading  my  horse  to  the  front 
steps,  but  he  understood  my  look  and  was  walking  out  of  ear 
shot,  when  Max  called  him. 

"  Come  back,  Tyrell.  I  don't  want  to  send  you  away  my  good 
fellow.  Everybody  in  the  neighborhood  appears  to  know  that  I 
came  out  here  to  pay  my  addresses  to  Miss  Lomax,  and  every 
body  in  the  neighborhood  can  see  how  very  little  my  suit  has 
prospered.  We  went  over  to  Oatlands  to-day,  Molly.  It  is  a 
pretty  little  house,  and  an  estate  in  the  best  order.  As  we  were 
coming  away,  the  Governor  told  me  that  Veronica  had  spoken 
to  him  and  desired  him  to  inform  me,  that  she  was  not  prepared 
to  fulfill  the  conditions  of  the  will ;  that  she  had  no  intention 
of  marrying — that  she  implored  me  not  to  make  her  any  offer — 
and  that  as  in  default  of  any  such  proposal  upon  my  part,  she 
should,  under  the  will,  become  possessed  of  Castleton,  she  was 
anxious  to  propose  to  me  to  exchange  her  property  in  England 
for  mine  in  Virginia,  which  would  better  suit  her  views." 

As  Max  said  this  Governor  Tyrell  joined  our  party. 

"  I  tell  this  hot-headed  young  gentleman,  Miss  Mandeville,  that 
there  is  no  reason  to  despair  because  such  are  the  young  lady's 
\vi>hes.  She  is  placed  in  a  very  difficult  position.  Her  object 
at  present  seems  to  be  to  extricate  herself  from  any  obliga 
tion.  The  will  of  Mr.  Lomax  bribes  him  to  marry  her, — an 
arrangement  no  young  lady  would  like.  If  he  appears  to 
acquiesce  in  this  proposal  to  exchange  estates,  it  gives  him 
a  much  fairer  field  for  courtship.  Castleton  is  worth  much 
more  than  Oatlands,  so  that  the  young  lady  lias  the  advan 
tage  of  believing  herself  to  be  conferring  a  benefit — an  advan 
tage  which  all  ladies,  Miss  Mandeville,  like  to  have — this 
awkward  question  of  the  bribe  is  set  at  rest,  and  after  the  14th 
of  October  your  brother  will  have  a  fairer  field  if  he  attempts 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  221 

to  court  her.  I  do  not  say  this  arrangement  should  be  final.  If 
it  should  happen  that  your  brother  does  not  win  his  suit,  I  am 
sure  he  would  not  be  willing  to  take  any  undue  advantage  of  her 
generous  offer ;  he  might  saddle  Castleton,  if  he  retains  it,  with 
an  annuity  payable  to  Miss  Lomax,  but  I  want  him,  as  a  matter 
of  form,  to  appear  to  acquiesce  in  her  proposal,  for  the  present. 
Let  her  have  her  own  way,  and  see  what  it  will  lead  to." 

"  I  cannot  bear  that  she  should  think  me  for  a  moment  such 
a  mercenary  scamp  as  to  profit  by  her  generosity,"  cried  Max ' 
"  and,  above  all,  I  cannot  bear  that  she  should  think  that  my 
object  is  not  her  hand  so  much  as  the  succession  to  Castleton." 

"I  do  not  understand,"  I  said,  "how  Veronica  "can  .deceive 
herself  with  the  idea  that  her  plan  can  possibly  be  entertained 
by  Max." 

"]S~o,  Governor  Tyrell,  I  will  have  nothing  so  diplomatic," 
said  Max ;  the  expression  was  not  well  chosen,  and  he  checked 
himself  with  an  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir.  I  meant  to  say  that  I 
am  a  plain,  blunt  man — a  straight-forward  soldier ;  that  I  know 
nothing  of  the  by-ways  that  might  suit  a  lawyer.  I  trusted  in  the 
fact  that  I  was  my  cousin  Veronica's  boy-lover,  and  that  she 
honored  me  with  her  preference  when  she  was  about  fifteen.  I 
cannot  but  hope  that  the  remembrance  of  that  early  time  is 
not  dead  within  her." 

"  My  young  friend,"  said  Governor  Tyrell,  "  you  call  yourself 
a  soldier.  Will  the  bravest  soldier  always  take  a  city  by  assault  ? 
This  garrison  is  not  disposed  to  yield.  It  appears  to  be  abun 
dantly  provisioned  with  a  large  supply  of  pride.  You  had 
better  prepare  for  a  long  courtship,  and  lay  your  plans  to  gain 
the  place  by  regular  approaches.  Miss  Lomax  will  not  be 
carried  by  a  coup  de  main? 

"  I  had  sooner  give  up  my  suit  at  once,"  cried  Max,  "  than  fall 


222  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

into  the  ranks  with  no  better  chance  before  me  than  Jeff  Way- 
land,  Weston  Carter,  or  half-a-dozen  other  men,  who,  I  am  told, 
aspire  to  marry  her." 

"  I  recommend  you,"  said  Governor  Tyrell,  "  in  the  first  place, 
to  exercise  more  command  over  your  own  feelings.  You 
alarmed  the  young  lady  but  just  now  by  your  eagerness.  You 
put  her  in  a  difficult  position,  and  she  had  recourse  to  her  pride 
to  extricate  herself.  Every  time  you  rouse  her  pride  and  oppo 
sition  you  will  lose  a  step.  Give  her  her  own  way ;  she  may 
be  very  sorry  to  have  it — if  so,  it  is  an  advantage  to  you." 

"  I  do  not  understand  these  things,"  said  Max.  "  If  I  feared 
any  rival  who  was  paying  her  his  court,  I  would  outstrip  all  his 
attentions  in  my  eagerness  to  make  myself  acceptable  to  her. 
But  half  the  time  I  think  she  only  distinguishes  Weston  Carter, 
or  Jeff  Wayland,  or  such  other  men  as  are  about  her,  in  order  to 
make  me  sensible  of  the  difference  she  puts  between  me  and 
them.  Patience,  I  confess,  is  not  my  virtue." 

"  Then  you  must  make  it  so,  good  sir,"  the  Governor  replied. 
"  If  a  man  thinks  he  is  to  win  a  Virginia  woman's  heart  without 
any  trouble, — that  it  is  to  be  veni-vidi-vici  work  with  him — I 
say  he  does  not  set  a  sufficient  value  on  his  prize.  I  think  that 
a  good  wife,  Captain  Mandeville,  is  the  best  gift  that  a  man 
can  ask  his  Maker  to  bestow  upon  him.  It  will  be  worth  his 
while  to  acquire  a  few  new  virtues  to  aid  him  in  the  pursuit 
of  her.  If  I  were  a  woman,  I  would  not  yield  to  any  man  until 
my  influence  had  begun  to  tell  favorably  upon  his  character. 
Impatience  should  be  curbed  to  a  foot-pace,  or  sluggishness  be 
foremost  at  the  winning-post  If  I  were  a  woman,  I  would 
assure  my  triumph  over  any  man  before  I  married  him." 

"  You  think  my  case  not  wholly  hopeless,  then  ?"  said  Max. 

"  I  do  not  think  any  case   is   necessarily,  a  priori,  hopeless, 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  223 

unless  it  comes  under  one  of  three  heads,"  said  the  Governor. 
"Provided  the  lady  has  no  intervening  attachment;  or  unless 
she  has  no  heart,  and  is  not  capable  of  an  attachment  (when,  of 
course,  she  will  look  out  for  the  largest  share  of  the  "  pomps  and 
vanities  "  that  constitute  an  advantageous  marriage) ;  or  unless 
(which  pretty  much  amounts  to  the  same  thing)  her  worldliness 
overrides  every  .thing,  and  she  would  strangle  Love  before  he 
breathed,  provided  she  did  not  detect  the  silver  spoon  in  his 
mouth." 

"  And,"  I  put  in,  "  in  case  the  man  is  not  a  good  man,  Gov 
ernor  Tyrell." 

"  Ah !"  said  he,  "  I  did  not  contemplate  that  case.  A  pure- 
minded,  good  woman  bears  Ithuriel's  spear,  and  turns  from  a  bad 
man  with  an  instinctive  loathing.  I  will  even  grant  you  that 
my  successful  lover  ought  to  be  a  man  with  a  parity  of  refine 
ment.  I  never  pity  a  woman  much  who  marries  really  ill. 
There  must  have  been  something  wanting*  in  her  moral  sensi 
tiveness,  when  she  gave  an  evil  man  a  chance  even  to  pretend  to 
be  her  husband.  But,"  he  added,"  it  is  getting  very  late  for 
Shannondale ;  you  had  better  be  oft',  James,  with  your  cousin. 
Captain,  will  you  stay  and  dine  with  me,"  he  added,  "  and  see  if 
you  can  disappoint  your  cousin,  Miss  Veronica ;  or  will  you 
change  your  dress,  take  my  roan  horse,  and  with  a  new  plan  of 
the  campaign  in  your  head,  ride  forth  to  reconnoitre  ?" 

Max  chose  to  stay  and  dine  tete-a-tete  with  his  new  Mentor. 
Tyrell  and  I  mounted  our  horses,  and  rode  through  the  crooked 
bridle-paths  in  the  woods,  and  under  the  boughs  of  the  great 
trees,  so  fast  that  we  had  no  opportunity  for  further  conversation. 


224  O  V  R     COUSIN      VERONICA. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Forget  not  yet  when  first  began 
The  weary  life,  ye  know  since  when 
The  suit,  the  service,  none  tell  can, 
Forget  not  yet ! 

SIR  THOMAS  WTATT. 

WE  rode  for  about  an  hour  through  the  woods,  with  no  more 
talk  than  TV  roll's  warning  exclamations  whenever  a  bough  hung 
low  over  the  path,  and  might  have  caught  my  dress  or  struck 
me  on  the  forehead.  In  spite  of  this  danger,  I  like  nothing  so 
well  as  riding  fast  through  these  Virginia  woods,  threading  one's 
way  without  a  path  through  miles  of  giant  trees.  The  dead 
leaves  of  forgotten  years  and  the  dry  twigs  of  the  past  winter 
crackling  merrily  beneath  the  hoofs  of  the  horses. 

It  was  a  warm  still  day  in  June.  "  The  tree-tops  lay  asleep," 
and  the  profound  stillness  of  the  woods  was  only  broken  by  our 
rapid  motion ;  and  yet  I  felt  the  spirit  of  life  thrilling  all  around 
me  in  those  solitudes,  which  week  after  week  were  scarcely 
traversed  by  the  foot  of  man.  There  were  not  many  birds,  but 
everywhere  there  was  a  low  perpetual  buzz  just  shading  into 
silence,  a  hum  of  insects  busy  in  their  mission  of  extracting  life 
from  death,  and  renovation  from  destruction.  Grey  squirrels  ran 
about  from  branch  to  branch  with  their  lithe  bushy  tails  waving 
behind  them  as  thev  ran,  or  curled  above  their  backs  whenever 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  225 

they  sat  watching  us  from  a  safe  elevation.  Every  now  and  then 
the  summer  sun-beams,  flickering  through  open  parts  of  the  dim 
wood,  trembled  before  us  on  the  path,  seeming  at  play  amongst 
the  leafy  shadows.  Huge  grape  vines  trailed  their  unwieldy 
sinewy  length  from  tree  to  tree  and  branch  to  branch, 
and  stretching  ever  upward  towards  the  air  and  light  mingled 
their  unripe  clusters  and  their  broad  green  leaves  with  the  more 
airy  foliage  of  the  oak  and  elm. 

After  an  hour's  ride  through  the  "boundless  contiguity  of 
shade,"  we  issued  from  the  woods  upon  a  svagon  track  which 
led  us  abruptly  to  the  edge  of  the  unrippled  river.  As  Haw 
thorne,  the  great  landscape  poet,  has  told  us  of  that  stream  that 
flows  by  the  old  Manse,  "  Gentle  and  unobtrusive  as  it  was,  the 
tranquil  woods  seemed  hardly  satisfied  to  allow  it  passage ;"  for 
the  gnarled  roots  of  the  lofty  fathers  of  the  forest  bound  to 
gether  the  loose  earth  and  stones  that  formed  its  banks,  and 
their  green  branches  pendent  over  its  tranquil  course  gave  their 
summer  tinge  to  its  unruffled  waters. 

As  our  horses,  tired  and  hot,  stooped  their  heads  into  the  flood, 
a  happiness  from  which  horses  are  not  restricted  in  Virginia, 
Tyrell  raised  his  voice  and  sent  a  long,  reechoed  musical  cry 
across  the  stream,  which  was  answered  from  the  other  side  of 
the  water ;  and  soon  a  rudely  built  old  ferry-boat  was  on  its  way 
across,  poled  by  two  boatmen  in  their  coarse  drab  negro  clothing. 

As  soon  as  it  came  near  enough  for  speech  the  one  who  was 
nearest  to  our  bank  (the  other  was  a  mere  lad)  hailed  us  with  a 
soft,  rich  voice  from  the  bow  of  his  little  vessel. 

"  Is  that  you  at  last  Mas'r  Jim — and  the  English  lady?  I'se 
been  waiting  for  you  at  this  bank  an  hour  since  I  put  the  rest 
across,  and  I  had  jes  done  given  you  up  and  gone  over  to  the 
other  side  to  git  my  dinner.  Well,  mas'r,"  springing  on  shore 

10* 


22G  OUR,    COUSIN    VERONICA. 

and  taking  Tyrell's  Land  which  he  shook  warmly,  "  it  does  my 
old  heart  good  to  see  you  master.  And  this  is  the  English  lady 
too — my  dear  old  mistress'  grand-daughter !  Miss  Vera  said  I 
was  to  look  out  for  her  and  her  brother — whar  is  he  ? — because 
they  knowed  my  poor  ole  mother." 

"  Cousin  Molly,"  said  Tyrell,  "  I  ought  to  have  told  you  as  we 
came  along  that  you  were  to  meet  Uncle  Christopher,  the  son 
of  Miss  Veronica's  old  Mammy.  He  was  born  a  servant  in  your 
grandfather's  family." 

"  Indeed  it  seems  quite  like  meeting  an  old  friend  to  see  you 
Uncle  Christopher,"  said  I,  as  he  lifted  me  off  my  horse,  and  I 
stood  shaking  hands  with  him. 

"  My  poor  old  mother !"  said  he,  "  she  died  a  long  ways  off  of 
home,  and  I  reckon  she  pined  after  this  southern  country,  but 
I  trust  that  the  Lord,  who  is  in  every  place,  lifted  up  his  counte 
nance  upon  her.  It  makes  a  day  of  sunshine  Mas'  Jim  to  see 
you  or  Miss  Veronica,  and  now  it  will  be  the  same  to  see  this 
young  mistress,"  looking  at  me  kindly.  "  I  hope  she  bin  going 
to  stop  with  us,  now  she  done  come." 

He  led  our  horses  to  the  boat,  and  as  Tyrell  and  I  followed, 
Tyrell  whispered,  "  He  is  a  very  remarkable  man.  I  want  to  tell 
you  about  him,  whenever  we  get  an  opportunity." 

When  we  were  on  board  the  boat,  Tyrell  stood  holding  the 
horses  amidships,  and  told  me  not  to  come  too  near  lest  they 
should  grow  restive.  I  therefore  kept  close  by  Uncle  Christopher, 
who  was  busy  with  his  pole. 

"  You'se  mighty  like  your  grandma  in  the  face,  young  mistress," 
he  said,  in  his  soft  negro  voice,  "and  thar  never  was  a  better  saint 
upon  this  side  of  Jordan  thau  my  old  mistress  was.  She  took 
me  into  the  house  when  1  was  four  years  old  and  brought  me  up 
to  wait  upon  her  in  hoi-  chamber,  and  to  <lo  sewin'  and  knittin' 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  227 

an'  to  pick  up  her  thimble  or  thread.  I  wisht  she  could  have 
lived  to  know  I  got  religion.  '  Oh !  Christopher,'  she  used  to 
say,  '  that  ar's  what  I  wish  for  you,'  and  the  Lord  heard  her 
prayers,  for  I  know  she  prayed  for  me.  She  lived  too  near  the 
Lord  not  to  take  him  every  wish,"  he  added  lifting  his  old  felt 
hat  reverently.  "  May  the  Lord  bless  you,  an'  make  you  a  bless 
ing,  young  mistress,  an'  as  good  a  "woman." 

"  Uncle  Christopher,"  said  Tyrell,  "  how  is  your  wife  now,  and 
how  are  you  getting  along  about  that  money  for  Mrs.  Williams  ?" 

"  Well,  Mas'  Jim  I  done  pretty  well  while  the  cold  weather 
lasted,  thank  the  Lord !  I  went  working  down  to  Harper's  Ferry 
that  time  with  a  party  of  young  men  on  the  railroad,  an'  I  come 
up  to  the  Governor  an'  he  gin  me  a  pass.  But  the  summer  is 
my  best  time  Mas'  Jim.  I  make  a  fip  for  every  trip  in  this  old 
boat,  and  when  the  hotel  at  the  Springs  is  pretty  full  thar's  some 
times  twenty  times  a  day  I  have  to  go  back  an'  forth.  An' 
when  my  poor  old  bones  ache  I  can  thank  the  Lord  for  that  too, 
mas'iv' 

"  Have  you  got  your  money  all  in  fips  ?"  said  Tyrell  laughing. 

"  Xot  all.  Some  of  it  is  put  up  in  mighty  big  notes  on  the 
Valley  Bank,  mas'r." 

"  And  where  do  you  keep  it  all  ?  I  seriously  recommend  you 
to  let  me  or  some  other  white  person  you  can  trust  take  care 
of  it,  Uncle  Christopher." 

"  Thank  you  Mas'  Jim.  You'se  allers  ready  to  do  a  good 
turn  to  your  neighbor  white  or  black — and  the  Lord  will 

J  O 

reward  you.     But  my  olc  woman  thought  it  didn't  feel  jus  safe 
down  at  her  room  hid  in  her  chist  in  a  stockin',  so  she  brought 
it  up  to  the  house  an'  gin  it  to  her  ole  mistress,  an'  mas'r  said 
he  had  better  sign  a  paper  for  it." 
"A  receipt?"  said  Tyrell. 


228  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  Aye,  that's  il,  Mas'r  Jim — that's  what  he  done  tole  me." 

"  And  where  is  that  receipt,  now  ?" 

"Here  'tis,"  said  Uncle  Christopher,  producing  it  from  his 
pocket-book.  "  I'se  done  got  it  all  safe,  Mas'r." 

"  Are  you  sure  that's  it  ?"  said  Tyrell. 

"  I'se  sure  I  never  got  nothin'  else,  Mas'r." 

Tyrell  began  to  give  a  long  sharp  whistle  as  he  looked  at  it, 
but  checked  himself,  and  asked  how  much  he  had  got  ? 

Uncle  Christopher  thought  a  moment.  u  I  reckon  it's  four 
hundred  an'  sixty-nine  dollars,  now,"  said  he  ;  "  I  done  most  got 
all  of  it." 

"  How  much  was  it  to  be  ?  I  forget — six  hundred  dollars  ?" 

"  Yes,  Mas'r.  Old  Mistress  said  I  should  have  my  wife,  an' 
her  baby,  an'  the  other  little  boy,  for  six  hundred  dollars." 

"  That  was  not  driving  a  hard  bargain  with  you,"  said 
Tyrell. 

"  No,  Mas'r,"  Christopher  quietly  replied.  "  They  would  sell 
for  more  upon  the  block." 

"  Well,  Uncle  Christopher,"  said  Tyrell,  "I  begin  to  think  that 
as  you  have  been  five  years  at  this  work,  the  sooner  you  brin^  it 
to  a  close  the  better.  Your  season  will  be  over  here  by  August. 
If  you  ask  Mrs.  Williams  to  let  you  have  your  money  back  and 
will  bring  it  to  me,  with  what  you  earn  this  summer,  I  will 
lend  you  what  you  want  to  make  up  the  six  hundred  dollars. 
Your  -wife's  old  mistress  is  failing  very  fast,  and  you  had  better 
get  the  business  settled  before  her  death.  Do  you  want  a  bill 
of  sale  made  out — or  free  papers  ?" 

The  boat  by  this  time  touched  the  shore.  Tyrell  had  only 
been  suffered  to  make  this  speech,  because  if  Christopher  had 
left  his  pole  she  would  have  been  in  jeopardy;  but  now,  with 
strong  agitation  on  his  face,  he  came  up  to  Tyrell,  and  shook  his 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  229 

hand  again  with,  his  strong  grasp,  laying  his  other  hand  upon 
his  arm  while  speaking. 

"  Mas'r  Tyrell,  I  will  bless  you,  every  hour  I  done  live.  But 
I  thank  the  Lord  first.  He  put  this  thought  into  your  mind, 
Mas'r." 

"  It  is  no  great  obligation,  Uncle  Christopher.  I  mean  that 
you  shall  work  out  this  money  and  pay  me  back  again." 

But  Christopher  could  hardly  speak.  His  subordinate  led  the 
horses  to  the  bank,  while  Tyrell  was  looking  in  his  pocket-book 
for  the  fare,  all  of  which,  but  the  fip,  belonged  to  the  keeper  of 
the  Shannondale  Hotel,  Uncle  Christopher's  temporary  master. 

"  Good  bye,  Uncle  Christopher,"  he  said,  "  you  have  not  told 
me  whether  you  want  a  bill  of  sale  to  some  person  you  can  trust, 
or  the  free  papers  ?" 

"  Free  papers,  if  you  please,  Mas'r." 

"  There  are  a  great  many  difficulties,  Uncle  Christopher,  about 
the  residence  of  free  colored  people  among  us ;  and  every  year 
I  fear  there  will  be  more  trouble  for  you." 

"  I  knows  that  Mas'r  Jim.  But  you  or  your  father,  or  Mas' 
William,  I  reckon,  will  go  security  at  the  court  for  me.  You 
see,  I'se  got  a  sort  of  pride  of  my  chil'ens  being  free.  I'se  never 
cared  'bout  it  for  myself.  I'se  allers  had  a  kind  good  Master." 

"  I  hope  you  will  always  find  your  master  is  a  good  one,  Uncle 
Christopher,"  I  said. 

"  I'se  greatly  'bliged  to  you,  young  mistress,"  he  replied.  "  Miss 
Vera  jus'  done  tell  mo  she's  to  bo  my  young  mistress ;  an'  dat 
she'll  let  everything  go  on  till  this  money's  paid,  jus'  like  her 
uncle,  my  ole  Mas'r.  I  was  glad  to  know  who  it  was  to  be,  for 
Mas'r  Warren,  up  at  Oatlands,  said  ole  Masjr  left  a  mighty 
oncertain  sort  of  will ;  an'  ho  didn't  know  who  was  to  be  mis 
tress  nor  master.  So  I  done  troubled  about  it  some  at  first,  an' 


230  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

then  I  cast  that  care  on  the  Lord,  too, — an'  He  done  brought  it 
out  right  to  me.  Blessed  be  His  name  !  I  love  to  praise  Uim, 
Mas'r." 

We  mounted  our  horses,  and  found  before  us  a  smooth  road. 

"  I  never  cross  that  Ferry,"  said  Tyrell,  "  without  thinking  of 
the  Legend  of  Saint  Christopher,  '  Der  hciliye  Christopher]  who 
was  also  a  ferryman.  lie  carried  the  infant  Christ  over  the  river. 
You  recollect  that  beautiful  Legend  ? — or  if  you  do  not,  I  shall 
have  the  pleasure  of  finding  the  ballad  for  you.  It  always  seems 
as  if  that  man  were  conscious  of  the  presence  of  his  God." 

After  a  few  moments  he  said,  "  But  I  am  very  far  from  satis 
fied  that  his  money  is  safe.  That  paper  was  not  a  receipt,  as  lie 
appeared  to  think.  It  was  a  pass  signed  by  Will  Williams,  and 
meant  nothing.  I  did  very  well  to  tell  him  to  get  the  business 
settled.  I  will  speak  to  Mrs.  Williams  about  it.  How  simple 
these  poor  negroes  are  in  anything  relating  to  money." 

"  You  do  not  think  that  Mrs.  Williams,  his  wife's  mistress, 
would  deprive  him  of  his  money  ?" 

"  No,  no,"  said  he,  "  she  is  a  good  weak  woman ;  but  her  son 
is  very  sharp  and  a  bad  master.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  she  mar 
ried  a  Yankee  who  came  down  here,  and  Northern  men  or 
Scotch  who  settle  at  the  South,  are  generally  hard  masters." 

«  Why  should  that  be  ?" 

"They  are  accustomed  to  order  and  to  briskness.  They 
expect  things  to  go  ahead  and  earn  a  profit.  The  slaves  do 
nothing  orderly.  They  waste  their  master's  substance  and  are 
prodigal  of  their  own  time.  The  hard  go-ahead  man,  wanting 
to  make  money,  gets  enraged  at  their  shiftlessness,  their  laziness, 
and  want  of  management.  He  has  not  been  brought  up  to 
share  his  negroes'  faults.  Absolute  power  is  in  his  hands,  and 
soon  he  learns  to  nsr>  it.'' 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  231 

"  But  how  could  Uncle  Christopher,  since  I  gather  that  he 
is  a  slave,  make  so  much  money  ?" 

"  Most  slaves  in  good  families  have  ten,  twenty,  or  even  a  hun 
dred  dollars  in  odd  change,  laid  up  in  a  leathern  pouch  or  old 
yarn  stocking,  while  their  masters  are  riding  about  the  country 
to  raise  that  much  of  money.  But  my  father  got  interested  in 
Christopher's  endeavors  to  obtain  his  family,  who  would  probably 
when  old  Mrs.  Williams  dies  be  sold  away  from  him,  or  see  hard 
times,  and  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Lomax,  who  gave  Christopher  his  time, 
and  would  have  freed  him  but  that  it  is  very  hard  in  Virginia 
to  secure  the  welfare  of  a  colored  man  who  has  no  legal  pro 
tector." 

As  Tyrell  ended  he  put  his  horse  into  a  gallop,  and  we  went 
gaily  up  the  first  good  piece  of  road  that  I  had  seen,  which  con 
ducted  us  with  several  windings  up  the  side  of  a  steep  hill  which 
had  amineral  spring,  near  which  a  large  hotel  had  recently  been 
erected.  The  party  from  Stonehenge  were  all  upon  the  porch 
as  we  rode  up,  and  greeted  us  with  many  inquiries  as  to  why  we 
lagged  behind, — together  with  a  good  deal  of  pretty  significant 
banter. 

The  hotel  was  a  wooden  building,  staring  and  white,  Avith  a 
wide  handsome  porch,  extending  the  whole  length  of  the  house, 
on  which  many  of  the  guests  were  promenading,  whilst  a  dozen 
or  more  gentlemen,  with  their  feet  upon  a  railing  which  had  been 
put  round  the  porch  for  their  convenience,  sat  with  their  chairs 
tipped  back,  enjoying  their  tobacco. 

There  was  a  long  bare  room  in  which  our  party  hoped  to 
dance, — a  negro  band  which  played  native  American  Quick  Steps, 
"  and  the  usual  assortment"  of  organic  airs  from  the  best  Operas. 
There  was  a  cold  bare  desert  of  a  dining-room,  in  which  fifty 
people  hardly  made  a  sho\v,  and  whore  we  sat  down  to  a  plenti- 


232  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

ful  and  well-cooked  feast  which  we  pricked  our  tongues  with 
two  pronged  forks  to  eat  with  the  celerity  required  by  custom. 

It  was  not  very  funny  there — not  half  so  funny  as  at  Stone- 
henge,  though  some  of  the  party  seemed  to  enjoy  the  chanie. 
My  spirits  were  subdued  by  the  incessant  giggle  of  a  party  of 
young  girls,  who  were  "carrying  on,"  as  their  phrase  was,  with 
a  party  of  young  gentlemen. 

"  Real  torn-down  girls,"  said  Phil ;  but  as  they  were  quite 
pretty  in  the  freshness  of  sixteen,  this  was  no  obstacle  to  his 
introducing  himself  forthwith  into  their  circle. 

Tyrell  was  as  grave  as  I  was.  Perhaps  his  thoughts,  like 
mine,  were  wandering  to  the  affairs  of  Max ;  but  the  giggle  that 
went  on  amongst  the  noisy  set  was  such,  that  it  was  impossible 
to  think  connectedly.  He  tried  a  cigar  after  dinner,  on  the 
porch,  but  threw  it  away,  half-smoked,  and  came  up  to  me. 

"  Miss  Molly,"  said  he,  "  let  us  walk  up  to  the  spring,  where, 
perhaps,  our  own  party  may  follow  us.  These  are  the  girls  who 
give  young  men  a  low  opinion  of  the  character  and  understand 
ing  of  women.  Do  you  recollect  Swift's  lines  ? — I  never  see  a 
party  of  girls  like  that  without  thinking  of  them. 

"  When  at  play  to  laugh,  or  cry, 
Yet  cannot  tell  the  reason  why, 
Never  to  hold  her  tongue  a  minute 
While  all  she  prates  has  nothing  in  it, 
Whole  hours  can  with  a  coxcomb  sit, 
And  take  his  nonsense  all  for  wit. 
Her  learning  mounts  to  read  a  song, 
But  half  the  words  pronouncing  wrong; 
Hath  every  repartee  in  store 
She  spoke  ten  thousand  times  before ; 
Can  ready  compliments  supply 
On  all  occasions  cut  and  dry  ; 
For  conversation  well  endued 
She  thinks  it  willy  to  be  rude  ; 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  233 

And  placing  raillery  in  railing 
Will  tell  aloud  your  greatest  failing. 

"  Well !  let  us  hope  that  when  broken  to  the  serious  business  of 
life,  they  will  do  better  for  the  sake  of  the  men  who  marry  them. 
There  is  nothing  like  matrimony  for  bringing  out  the  sterling 
qualities  of  our  Virginia  women." 

We  walked  soberly  away  to  a  little  spring  which  bubbled  up 
under  a  sort  of  Grecian  Temple.  We  drank  part  of  a  nauseous 
glass,  and  were  standing  there  quiet  and  cool  when  Tyrell  said : 

"  I  see  Miss  Veronica  alone  upon  the  porch — do  you  think  she 
would  join  you  ?" 

"  Go  and  ask  her,"  said  I 

A.  few  moments  after  he  came  back,  accompanied  by  Veronica. 
"  I  am  tired  Avith  all  that  noise,  and  am  very  glad  to  come 
away,"  she  said,  as  they  returned  together. 

"  Miss  Mandeville,"  said  Weston  Carter,  who  came  after  them, 
"  what  are  you  thinking  of — you  looked  so  serious  and.  pensive 
as  we  came  up  to  you  ?" 

"  How  noble  his  form  and  how  lovely  her  face," 

said  I.     "  That  is  precisely  what  I  was  thinking." 

"  She  was  thinking  of  you  Tyrell,  you  see,"  said  Weston  Car 
ter,  though  he  really  assumed  the  compliment  himself  as  the 
handsomest  man  of  the  party. 

"But  where  is  Captain  Max?  We  wanted  him  to  decide 
upon  getting  up  a  tournament,  Miss  Molly." 

"Max  was  invited  to  a  tete-a-tete  dinner  with  Governor  Tyrell," 
said  I.  "  The  Governor  promised  to  give  him  real  Virginia  fare, 
cold  hog  and  fried  hominy  ;  and  I  dare  say  his  ears  are  being 
feasted  with  details  of  the  French  revolution." 


234  O  U  II      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  Well,"  said  Weston  Carter,  "  I  see  enough  of  men  in  camp. 
When  I  come  in  I  would  not  give  one  hour  of  the  society  of 
such  ladies  as  I  meet  here  for  the  company  and  conversation  of 
any  man." 

I  began  to  talk  to  Veronica  of  Uncle  Christopher,  and  had 
soon  told  her  of  Tyrell's  generosity. 

She  did  not  say  anything  for  a  moment,  but  when  she  looked 
up  the  light  in  her  blue  eyes  was  troubled  by  a  mist  of  sympathy, 
and  turning  to  Tyrell  who  stood  behind  her,  she  put  her  hand  in 
his,  and  said  in  a  low  voice  : 

"  It  is  just  like  you." 

"  Ah !  Veronica !"  he  said — but  checked  himself  and  walked 
away. 

Tyrell  was  never  half  so  conversable  with  her  as  when  alone 
with  me.  Some  mysterious  constraint  was  creeping  over 
us,  and  I  made  an  effort  to  dissipate  it  by  telling  Veronica 
that  I  was  expecting  to  hear  uncle  Christopher's  history  from 
Tyrell. 

"  Ask  him  to  come  back  and  tell  it  us,"  said  she. 

But  Tyrell  appeared  to  have  no  more  story  than  the  Knife- 
grinder. 

Story — Lord  bless  you !    I  have  none  to  tell,  sir. 

Tie  said  I  had  heard  it  already — that  my  conversation  with 
uncle  Christopher  had  supplied  the  outline,  and  that  I  could  fill 
up  the  details  as  I  increased  in  knowledge  of  Virginia.  He  was 
constrained  and  restless.  At  length  he  said  abruptly,  "  Let  us 
take  a  walk,"  offering  his  arm,  as  he  said  so,  to  Veronica. 

Mr.  Carter,  whether  he  liked  it  or  not,  had  to  invite  me  to 
follow.  He  had  been  talking  about  a  tournament  that  had  been 
held  at  Shannondale  the  year  before,  and  was  eager  to  have 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  235 

another  got  up  that  season  in  my  honor.  There  was  a  piece  of 
ground  on  which  he  wished  to  have  it  held,  while  Tyrell  had 
given  it  as  his  opinion  that  if  it  took  place  at  all  it  had  better 
be  on  the  spot  which  had  been  marked  out  for  it  the  year 
before. 

Weston  Carter  was  a  little  fond  of  his  own  way,  and  now 
while  Veronica  and  Tyrell  walked  before  he  drew  me  apart  down 
a  by-path  to  the  spot  of  his  selection.  We  spent  a  pleasant 
hour  there,  while  Weston  with  the  eye  of  a  surveyor  laid  off  the 
ground,  and  stepped  it  out,  and  showed  how  a  little  knoll  to 
which  Tyrell  had  been  disposed  to  object,  in  the  centre  of  the 
lists,  could  be  easily  levelled,  if  necessary,  and  we  built  imaginary 
tents,  and  saw  imaginary  banners  wave,  and  talked  over  the  quali 
fications  of  the  knights  and  horses  that  would  probably  enter. 

While  we  were  thus  engaged,  Tyrell  and  Veronica  emerged 
from  a  by-path  in  the  woods  and  joined  us.  Veronica  wore  one 
of  the  thick  American  green  veils  over  her  face,  but  even  in  the 
twilight  of  the  forest  shade  I  was  struck  by  the  discomposure  of 
the  air  and  manner  of  Tyrell.  She  turned  to  Weston  Carter 
as  she  joined  us,  and  told  him  it  was  high  time  to  depart. 

"  Then  I  will  leave  you  and  order  the  horses,"  said  Tyrell, 
"  while  Weston  collects  the  rest  of  the  party." 

We  all  kept  close  together  as  we  rode  home  through  the 
woods,  which  were  growing  dark  enough  to  frighten  some  of 
the  ladies.  Jefferson  Wayland  was  my  cavalier,  but  I  was  in  no 
humor  to  accept  the  attentions  which  a  due  consideration  for 
himself  as  the  beau  par  excellence  of  the  society  of  Fighterstown 
and  its  vicinity  induced  him  to  offer  me.  Veronica  rode  a  little 
in  advance  with  Weston  Carter ;  and  Tyrell,  whose  manly  kind 
ness  I  was  secretly  comparing  with  Jeff  Wayland's  fussy  gal 
lantries,  rode  by  himself,  or  rather  hovered  in  and  out  amongst 


230  O  U  U      C  O  U  S  I  N      V  E  H  O  N  I  C  A  . 

llie  rest,  wherever  help  or  encouragement  was  wanted ;  putting 
aside  the  branches  of  the  trees  whenever  they  bent  low  over 
our  path ;  choosing  the  road  for  us  whenever  it  was  doubtful ; 
acting  always  with  prompt  decision  and  a  sort  of  cheerful  kind 
ness,  in  the  triple  capacity  of  pioneer,  commander-in-chief,  and 
servant-of-all-work  to  the  party. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  237 


CHARTER  X. 

Why  so  pale  and  wan  young  lover, 

Prithee  why  so  pale  ? 
Will  when  looking  well  can't  move  her 
Looking  ill  prevail  ? 
Prithee  why  so  pale  ? 

SIR  JOHN  SUCKLING. 

THE  next  morning  after  breakfast  we  left  Stonehengc. 
Throughout  our  visit  the  Governor  Lad  seemed  anxiously  to 
remember  that  the  place  had  belonged  to  my  forefathers,  and  to 
recognize  that  I  had  a  claim  to  all  interests  connected  with  it. 
I  rose  early  and  went  down  by  myself  to  the  little  grave-yard. 
I  gathered  some  of  the  white  roses,  and  thought  of  the  goodness 
attributed  to  my  grandmother  as  I  mused  beside  her  grave.  Tyrell 
joined  me  as  I  was  coming  back  to  the  house,  and  wo  stood 
together  on  the  porch  a  few  moments  before  any  others  of  the 
party  joined  us,  watching  the  effects  of  sunlight  and  shadow  on 
the  opposite  hill.  He  did  not  say  much,  but  as  we  both  looked 
at  the  landscape,  it  was  pleasant  to  me  to  fancy  a  silent  sym 
pathy  in  our  thoughts.  On  turning  my  eyes,  however,  to  his  face, 
I  saw  that  he  was  far  from  drinking  in  pleasure  from  the  sight. 
I  was  struck  by  his  appearance. 

"  Cousin  Tyrell,"  said  I,  "  what  is  the  matter  ?  You  look 
wretchedly  ill." 

"  I  am  not  sick,"  he  replied,  "  I  have  a  headache.    A  headache 


238  OUR.      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

which  1  am   afraid  will  prevent  my  riding  over  to  Clairmont 
with  you."     lie  paused  a  moment  and  then  repeated : 

"  And  how  can  any  die  of  that  disease 
Whereof  himself  may  be  his  own  physician?" 

Forcing  the  words  out  bitterly,  with  rather  a  tone  of  sarcasm. 

"  What  disease  ?"  said  I,  "  and  where  do  those  lines  come 
from  ?" 

Tyrell  laughed — not  one  of  his  own  genial  pleasant  laughs ; 
but  like  many  men  when  they  are  sick,  "  having  a  headache," 
seemed  to  have  altered  him. 

"  Shall  I  give  you  a  long  Greek  name  for  my  malady  ?"  said 
he.  "  It  was  known  amongst  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  and  has 
been  covered  alike  under  togas,  and  white  waistcoats,  and  buff 
jerkins,  and  coats  of  mail !  The  lines  I  quoted  are  from  a 
poem  of  the  sixteenth  century,  by  one  Sir  Robert  Aytoun.  You 
will  find  it  in  very  few  collections.  Perhaps  if  you  could  I  should 
not  quote  it  to  you." 

"  Cousin  Tyrell  has  a  bad  headache,  and  says  he  cannot  ride 
with  us  to  Clairmont,"  said  I  to  Veronica,  who  appeared  on  the 
porch  at  this  moment,  but  she  did  not  stop  to  give  me  any 
answer. 

When  the  horses  came  up,  Tyrell  led  the  Blue-tail  to  the  door 
and  Max  helped  Veronica  to  mount.  The  Governor  handed  me 
down  the  steps,  seeming  to  mark  by  his  consideration  that  ho 
tin  night  I,  rather  than  Veronica,  was  the  person  to  be  first  attended 
to  by  the  gentlemen  of  the  party,  and  whilst  Tyrell  brought  up 
Angelo,  lamented  that  his  son  should  not  be  able  to  ride  with 
me  that  day.  "  He  has  not  been  as  well  as  a  young  man  ought 
to  be  of  late.  Miss  Mollv.  I  do  not  like  younf  men  to  be  faucv- 

•  J  O  ^ 

ing  thev  have  headaches  and  such  stuff.     I  shall  send  him  over 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  239 

to  Clainnont  as  soon  as  lie  gets  well,  and  you  rnust  talk  to  him 
and  cheer  him.     I  trust  to  you  to  cure  him." 

Tyrell  requiring  to  bo  cheered,  was  an  idea  that  had  never 
presented  itself  to  my  imagination.  He  was  so  universally  help 
ful,  and  kindly,  and  cheery — so  entirely  the  person  to  Avhom  any 
one  else  would  bring  all  kinds  of  griefs  in  search  of  remedy — 
that  I  had  never  thought  of  Tyrell  other  than  as  the  impersona 
tion  of  a  certain  manly  strength — strength  of  mind,  strength  of 
purpose,  strength  of  body — held  in  trust  for  all  whose  weakness 
might  demand  it.  Could  Tyrell  possibly  have  need  of  human 
sympathy  ?  He  who  spoke  hopefully  to  others  in  their  trials, 
could  there  be  moments  when  his  courage  drooped  under  the 
burden  of  his  own  ?  I  rode  on  wondering  what  sort  of  life  my 
cousin  Tyrell  led  in  that  old  crumbling  house  on  the  bank  of 
that  still  river,  under  the  shadow  of  that  fir-crowned  hill.  They 
had  been  laughing  at  breakfast-time  over  an  advertisement  snip 
ped  from  a  Boston  paper — "  WANTED,  a  woman  to  take  care  of  a 
house  and  two  men  during  the  winter ;"  but  there  appeared  to 
me  great  sense  in  the  advertisement ;  and  I  was  saddened  by  the 
picture  conjured  up,  when  I  applied  its  sense  in  this  case,  and 
thought  of  the  Tyrells,  father  and  son,  without  any  woman 
better  than  Mann  Mona,  the  black  housekeeper,  to  brighten  the 
dullness  of  Stonehenge  and  make  a  household  sunshine  when  the 
great  hill  covered  them  with  its  stern  shadow.  I  thought  of  my 
seven  aunts  and  uncles  who  had  died  in  babyhood,  and  lay  buried 
in  the  grave-yard  by  the  river,  and  wondered  what  might  have 
been  the  effect  upon  the  dull  old  place  of  happy  childish  voices. 
I  thought  how  Alonzo  Lomax  had  succeeded  to  the  estate  when 
my  grandfather  (who  could  not  bear  the  solitude  after  his  wife's 
death)  had  exchanged  it  with  him  for  the  reversion  of  Castleton ; 
and  I  heard  in  fancy  the  patter  of  his  baby's  feet,  and  saw 


240  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Veronica  playing  with  old  Mammy  on  the  grass,  and  fancied  she 
might  have  given  life  to  the  old  house  as  she  grew  up  amongst 
its  shadows.  I  was  roused  from  these  thoughts  by  the  voice  of 
Phil  hailing  a  negro  boy  on  horseback  who  had  come  out  of  a 
field  and  was  dashing  by  us  without  ceremony. 

"Oigh  there,  boy!  Is  that  the  way  you  Jefferson  niggers 
behave  to  white  folks,  pushing  by  them  that  way  without  cere 
mony  ?  Go  back  and  keep  behind  us  till  we  come  to  a  wood." 

"  Ole  missus  mighty  sick,  mas'r,  and  I'se  gwine  for  the  doctor." 

"  Who  is  your  mistress  ?"  said  Phil,  making  way  at  once  for 
him. 

"  Mrs.  Williams,  my  ole  missus,"  was  the  answer. 

We  gathered  round  the  boy,  and  finding  his  mistress  really 
was  very  ill,  and  that  he  had  been  ordered  to  ride  for  life  and 
death,  we  let  him  pass,  and  cousin  Virginia  proposed  to  Veronica 
to  turn  aside  and  go  to  Mrs.  Williams's  at  once  in  order  to  see 
if  we  could  be  of  use  to  her. 

Veronica  had  seen  very  little  of  this  aunt,  but  she  was  Mrs. 
Williams's  nearest  female  relative,  and  in  Virginia  in  a  time  of 
distress  ties  of  blood  are  never  forgotten. 

"  Mr.  Morrisson,  will  you  come  too  ?  Come,  cousin  Max — you 
and  Molly,  come  both  of  you.  It  may  be  the  only  chance  of  the 
old  lady's  seeing  you.  You  are  her  English  relations,  and  riding 
up  to  the  house  to  ask  if  you  can  be  of  use  will  be  thought 
kind  and  attentive  of  you." 

It  did  not  seem  exactly  the  sort  of  attention  that  I  liked  to 
pay.  I  hesitated  to  disturb  the  dying  moments  of  an  aged 
woman  with,  empty  offers  of  compliment ;  but  Max  had  turned 
his  horse's  head,  so  I  turned  mine,  and  striking  into  a  bad  road, 
made  zig-zag  between  fields  separated  by  crooked  and  dilapi 
dated  worm  fences,  we  made  our  way  up  to  a  house  of  some 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  241 

pretensions,  but  in  bad  repair,  dismounted,  hitched  our  horses  to 
a  rack,  and  finding  nobody  about  the  place  (who  ever  heard  in 
Virginia  of  a  front  door-bell  ?)  we  went  in  at  the  open  door. 

Cousin  Virginia  Morrisson  went  to  the  sick  woman's  chamber 
and  tapped  at  it.  Her  knock  was  answered  by  a  very  respect 
able-looking,  stout,  yellow  woman.  She  said  her  mistress  "  was 
took  mighty  sick,"  and  she  had  sent  off  one  boy  for  assistance  to 
Stonehenge,  and  another  to  Fighterstown,  to  bring  the  doctor. 

The  chamber  was  a  large,  square  room,  superabounding  in 
window  sash,  from  which  several  panes  of  glass  had  fallen,  and 
their  places  had  been  thriftily  supplied  by  cotton,  thick  paper, 
and  paste.  There  were  two  double  beds,  of  course,  and  a  great 
many  moth-eaten  hair  trunks  and  old  deal  boxes,  piled  on  one 
another.  There  were  two  rickety  old  wardrobes,  crowned  with 
band-boxes.  The  plaster  was  dropping  from  what  had  been 
once  a  handsome  cornice  and  ceiling.  The  walls  were  so  broken 
as  to  show  the  lathing  in  some  places ;  and  rat-holes  had  been 
oaten  along  the  edges  of  the  floor.  There  were  weather-stains 
of  every  shade  upon  the  wall  and  ceiling,  from  the  faint  discolor 
ation  of  the  first  rain-spot  to  patches  of  the  deepest  brown, 
where  a  hu^e  leak  in  the  old  roof  drained  in  the  water  from 

O 

every  passing  shower ;  and  in  great  rain-storms,  I  could  readily 
believe  the  stories  told  by  cousin  Virginia,  of  the  floor  covered 
with  pails  and  washing-tubs,  and  an  umbrella  fixed  by  aunt 
Sapphira,  the  colored  maid,  at  the  bed's  head,  to  protect  the 
poor  old  lady's  pillow. 

She  lay  on  the  bed  quite  motionless ;  there  was  a  lull  in  the 
cruel  pain,  but  nature  was  almost  exhausted.  We  had  not  been 
there  many  moments  when  the  attack  returned.  It  was  frightful 
to  stand  by  and  watch  her  struggling  with  death  for  every 
breath,  and  to  know  we  could  not  help  her.  We  thought  at  one- 

11 


242  OUR      COUSIN      VEKONICA. 

time  that  to  raise  her  head  would  give  her  ease ;  and  Veronica, 
sitting  on  the  bed,  lifted  the  poor  troubled  face  in  her  arms  and 
propped  her  pillow. 

In  the  midst  of  her  worst  agony,  the  door  opened,  and  Aunt 
Mona,  from  Stonehenge,  came  into  the  room,  accompanied  by 
Tyrell.  Aunt  Mona  was  a  consequential  colored  lady,  who 
ordered  everything  about  her  master's  house,  and  had  come  pre 
pared  to  supersede  Aunt  Saph,  and  have  matters  her  own  way. 
She  was  permitted  to  do  this  in  spite  of  the  presence  of  white 
folks — for  all  cousin  Virginia's  remedies  of  relief  had  failed, 

O  ' 

though  she  was  skilled  in  pharmacy. 

There  seemed  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  bathe  her  temples 
from  a  large  bottle  of  rose-water. 

The  weight  of  the  poor,  helpless,  nerveless  form  was  too  heavy 
for  Veronica,  who  was  beginning  to  look  pale.  Tyrell  perceived 
it,  and  gently  took  her  place,  which  without  a  word  she  yielded 
to  him.  A  man  in  a  sick-room  is  seldom  serviceable ;  but  it 
seemed  natural  that  Tyrell,  with  his  grave  thoughtfulness,  should 
be  there  to  help  us.  His  presence  calmed  us,  and  in  his  arms 
the  dying  woman  seemed  to  lie  more  easily. 

After  some  moments  of  stupor  succeeding  to  the  cramps  of 
pain,  she  opened  her  eyes  and  looked  at  our  strange  faces. 

"  How  do  you  feel  now,  dear  aunt  Barbara  ?"  said  Veronica, 
who  was  wiping  the  death-sweat  from  her  clammy  brow,  as  she 
lay  back  in  the  arms  of  Tyrell. 

"Better  a  little,  dear;"  and  in  a  faint  voice,  "who  are  all 
these  ?  Is  this  my  son  William  holding  my  head  ?'' 

"  Cousin  William  has  been  sent  for,  aunt  Barbara.  I  am 
Veronica ;  this  is  cousin  Virginia  Morrisson ;  and  here  is  our 
cousin  Mary  Mandeville,  from  England,  come  to  see  you ;  and 
this  is  cousin  Tvrell." 


O  U  U      COUSIN      VERONICA.  243 

"  Is  my  son  coming  ? — I  am  most  gone,"  she  gasped  faintly. 
"We  looked  in  Tyrell's  face,  and  its  expression  told  us  she  spoke 
truly. 

Aunt  Mona  here  insisted  on  her  swallowing  some  preparation 
which  revived  the  spark  of  life  a  moment ;  and  seeing  her  able 
to  understand  him,  Tyrell  said, 

"  Have  you  any  affairs  unsettled,  to  which  you  wish  me  to 
attend  ?" 

There  AY  as  no  answer.  At  this  moment  Mr.  Felix,  AYho 
had  been  working  on  the  porch,  looked  in.  Tyrell  beckoned  to 
him  to  enter  the  chamber,  and  tried  again  distinctly  and  slowly. 

"Are  all  your  affairs  arranged  as  you  Avish  to  have  them,  if 
you  should  not  recover." 

"  I  made  my  Avill,"  said  she,  "  and  left  Sapphira  and  her  chil 
dren  free.  Uncle  Christopher  paid  me  nearly  five  hundred 
dollars  for  them,  and  my  son  got  it  away  from  me.  I  told  him 
if  he  had  it,  he  must  write  out  my  Avill  and  leave  them  free ;  and 
Jake  Gibson,  last  time  he  came  here,  put  his  name  upon  it. 
Sapphira  has  been  a  good  servant  to  me,  and  I  Avant  her  to  have 
her  freedom.  It  Avill  not  Avrong  my  son  to  set  the  children  free, 
because  he  got  most  of  their  value  in  money." 

"  Where  is  the  will  your  son  wrote  out  for  you  ?  Shall  I  see 
if  it  is  all  right,  Mrs.  Williams,"  said  Tyrell. 

She  did  not  ansAver ;  but  Aunt  Sapphira  said, 

"  Missus  done  told  me  put  it  in  dat  bigges'  ban-box,  Avay  dar 
yonder." 

"  Shall  I  see  if  it  is  signed  and  is  all  right,  Mrs.  Williams !" 

"  Aunt  Saph  says,  '  please  don't  ask  her  any  more  questions,'  " 
said  Veronica. 

It  seemed  cruel  to  disturb  her  dying  moments ;  but  Tyrell 
asked  again.  He_was  very  gentle  ;  and  I,  who  knew  his  appro- 


244  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

hensions  about  Uncle  Christopher,  could  not  but  respect  him  the 
more. 

The  dying  woman  made  a  sign  towards  her  old  wardrobe, 
and  Sapphira,  who  knew  what  she  wanted,  brought  her  a  paper. 

"  Mas'  Gibson  done  put  some  writin'  upon  it,"  she  observed. 

"  Shall  I  take  it  ?"  said  Tyrell. 

The  dying  woman  signed  assent,  as  we  thought.  Tyrol!  dis 
engaged  one  hand  and  took  the  paper.  As  his  eye  fell  on  it,  he 
gave  a  sudden  exclamation,  and  was  about  to  speak,  but  in 
another  moment  the  cramps  seized  Mrs.  Williams  more  vio 
lently  than  ever. 

While  the  attack  lasted,  and  we  stood  around  the  bed,  suffer 
ing  with  her  sufferings,  as  every  breath  became  more  faint,  the 
doctor  from  Fighterstown  arrived,  leading  Mr.  William  Wil 
liams  into  the  chamber.  lie  looked  quite  wild ;  he  threw 
himself  across  the  bed  iu  an  agony  of  grief;  he  clasped  his 
mother's  feet,  and  his  sobs  shook  the  bed. 

The  Doctor  shook  his  head.  "  There  is  nothing  to  be  done 
but  to  pray  for  her,"  he  said.  "This  breath  is  almost  the  last 
one."  I  hid  my  face  in  ray  clasped  hands  and  prayed  for  the 
passing  soul.  When  I  looked  up,  Tyrell  was  laying  back  the 
heavy  head,  as  if  in  quiet  rest,  and  the  dead  face  that  had  been 
so  convulsed  with  pain  when  I  last  looked  at  it,  lay  peaceful  on 
the  pillow. 

Then  we  left  the  room  to  Aunt  Mona,  obtrusively  important 
on  such  an  occasion,  and  Sapphira,  who  was  kissing  her  dead 
mistress'  hands,  with  loud  and  bitter  lamentations.  The  Doctor, 
with  a  whispered  word  or  two  to  Tyrell,  drew  Mr.  Williams 
away. 

As  we  stood  in  the  drawing-room,  we  heard  his  heavy  sobs 
upon  the  porch.  "  I  cannot  bear  to  hear  it — I  cannot  bear  it,"  I 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  245 

said  to  Tyrell,  who  was  standing  by  ray  chair.  He  looked  at 
me  a  moment  with  a  strange  expression  of  face,  and  then  said, 
"  It  is  partly  liquor." 

The  shock  of  this  explanation  was  worse  than  any  other 
part  of  the  painful  scene.  That  grief  and  natural  feeling 
should  be  parodied  and  profaned ! — that  vice  and  death  should 
have  met  together !  Tyrell,  seeing  how  much  I  was  agitated, 
took  me  out  on  the  back  porch,  where  a  frightened  little  negro 
child  in  a  tow-cloth  jacket,  out  at  elbows  and  bare  feet,  got  me  a 
glass  of  water. 

We  were  summoned  shortly  by  Mr.  Morrisson.      Our  horses 
*    were  ready,  and  he  was  afraid  we  should  hardly  reach  Clairmont 
before  nightfall. 

"  I  do  not  like  to  leave  him,"  said  the  Doctor  to  Tyrell,  pointing 
to  Mr.  Williams,  who  sat  on  the  front  porch,  taking  no  notice 
of  anything  around  him.  "  When  this  fit  goes  off  he  is  very 
likely  to  be  wild  and  rash.  He  is  not  by  any  means  sober,  and 
has  been  for  some  time  past  on  the  verge  of  delirium  tremens. 
Besides  which,  if  he  should  get  better  by  and  by,  this  is  the 
very  moment,  beside  his  mother's  death-bed,  to  bring  him  to  a 
sense  of  what  he  is  coming  to." 

"  I  will  stay  with  him,"  said  Tyrell.  "  I  have  business  with 
him.  If  he  gets  better  it  may  be  the  right  moment  to  arrange 
it.  I  will  stay — and  Mr.  Felix." 

"  Old  Mr.  Felix  was  off  at  once,"  said  the  Doctor,  with  a  laugh, 
"  I  saw  him  streaking  down  the  road  as  fast  as  his  legs  would 
carry  him.  He  would  not  for  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  stay 
in  the  house  with  a  corpse,  nor  pass  a  church-yard  after  dark, 
nor  sleep  up  stairs,  because  of  the  witches.  He  believes  in 
ghosts.  He  thinks  he  has  been  visited  by  one." 

"  I  am  sorry  ,"-j^i(frTyrell,  "  for  I  want  a  witness.     Mr.  Morris- 


246  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

son,  can  you  stay  here  an  hour  or  so,  and  let  Capt.  Mandeville 
ride  home  with  these  ladies  ?" 

"  I  cannot  possibly  remain,  "said  Mr.  Morrisson ;  "  I  have  a  man 
coming  over  to  speak  to  me  this  evening  about  a  note  of  mine 
that  is  out"  (Virginia  gentlemen  have  generally  a  heavy  crop 
of  "  promises  to  pay,"  ripening  about  harvest-time,  all  over  the 
country). 

"lias  anything  gone  wrong  about  Uncle  Christopher's 
money?"  I  whispered  to  Tyrell.  "When  you  took  the  will 
I  saw  you  start." 

"  Look  here,"  said  he. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  I  replied,  turning  the  dirty  paper  over  and 
over. 

"  It  is  not  a  will,"  said  he,  "  though  Williams  must  have  mado 
his  mother  fancy  it  such.  It  is  a  promise  signed  by  the  old 
lady,  who  was  almost  blind,  that  her  estate  shall  pay  Jake  Gib 
son  all  claims  against  herself  or  her  son  William  Williams,  in 
full,  with  fifteen  per  cent,  interest,  one  month  after  her  death,  or 
shall  give  up  to  him  the  negro  woman,  Sapphira  and  her  chil 
dren.  Written  below  it  on  the  paper,  is  a  promise  from  Jake 
Gibson  to  Will  Williams  to  lend  him  seventy-five  dollars,  cash, 
and  to  release  him  in  full  from  every  claim,  on  fulfillment  of 
these  conditions." 

"  Oh !  cousin  Tyrell,  what  do  you  mean  to  do  about  it  ?" 

"  I  mean  to  make  use  of  the  first  opportunity  that  offers,  to 
investigate  the  matter.  He  may  have  the  will  in  his  possession. 
It  may  not  be  what  I  fear.  I  will  speak  to  him  to  night.  If  he 
has  any  better  feelings,  this  must  be  the  time  to  call  them  forth. 
But  I  want  another  white  man  for  a  witness  to  our  conver 
sation." 

"Max,  I  am  sun',  will  stay  with  you,"  I^-ied;  and  going  up 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  247 

to  Max,  I  begged  him  to  oblige  me  and  remain  that  night  with 
cousin  Tyrell. 

"  What  has  he  got  to  say  to  me  ?"  he  said  with  a  look  of  great 
surprise. 

"  He  will  tell  you  himself." 

Max  looked  at  Veronica. 

"  She  will  be  sure  to  wish  you  should  remain,"  I  urged ;  "  I 
will  tell  her  all  about  it  as  we  ride  home." 

Max  yielded,  and  Tyrell,  as  he  mounted  me  upon  my 
horse,  promised  to  bring  him  over  to  Cranmer,  a  little 
Mission  Church,  in  the  woods,  and  meet  us  on  the  Church  porch 
in  the  morning. 


248  OUR      COUSIN      VKRONICA. 


CHAPTER  XL 

A  letter  timely  writ  is  a  rivet  to  the  chain  of  affection, 
And  a  letter  untimely  delayed  is  as  rust  to  the  solder. 

TCPPER. 

As  we  rode  along  the  river's  bank  I  found  an  opportunity  -of 
telling  Veronica  and  cousin  Virginia  Morrisson,  with  a  great 
deal  of  womanly  vehemence,  of  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Will  Williams 
towards  uncle  Christopher. 

Veronica  was  quite  as  indignant  as  I.  Her  color  rose  and  her 
eyes  flashed  under  her  riding-hat ;  and  I  was  delighted  to  see 
that  also  cousin  Virginia's  sympathies  went  in  the  right  direction. 
I  had  not  been  quite  sure  but  that  her  pro-slavery  predilections 
might  throw  her  on  the  side  of  the  master. 

"Just  listen  to  this,  Mr.  Morrisson,"  cried  she,  turning  round  to 
her  husband,  who  being  a  heavy  man  was  making  his  way  slowly, 
mounted  on  a  tall  bay  colt,  whose  tail  untrimmed  was  becoming- 
fast  encrusted  with  stiff  clay  (on  the  dip  candle  principle)  as  it 
dragged  through  every  mud-hole.  "  Listen  to  this,  Mr.  Morrisson. 
I  declare  Will  Williams  is  a  ri^ht  bad  fellow.  He  has  used  that 

O 

old  lady  mighty  bad  I  expect  during  her  life-time.  I  don't 
know  what  she  would  have  done  without  Aunt  Sapphira  to  take 
care  of  her.  Aunt  Saph  is  a  real  elegant  servant.  I  wish  I  had 
half  as  genteel  a  one.  Poor  thing !  I  hope  Tyrell  will  be  able 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  249 

to  do  something  to  help  them,  for  if  Will  Williams  sells  them  to 
Jake  Gibson  it  will  be  an  awful  fate  for  them." 

Mr.  Morrisson  listened  to  my  tale  and  then  said  quietly : — 
"  Tyrell  is  putting  his  hand  into  a  wolf's  mouth,  I  reckon." 

"  That  is  like  Mr.  Morrisson,"  said  cousin  Virginia.  "  He  never 
thinks  it  wise  to  interfere  about  other  people's  servants.  He  says 
it's  worse  than  meddling-  between  man  and  wife  to  come  between 

O 

servant  and  master.  But  Tyrell  is  just  one  of  those  people  who 
would  do  what  he  thought  right,  I  reckon.  On  the  whole  it  was 
best  that  cousin  Max  stayed  instead  of  Mr.  Morrisson.  Especially 
as  Uncle  Christopher  is  to  be  his  servant.  People  might  have 
thought  it  interfering  of  Mr.  Morrisson.  Which  is  it  Veronica, 
sure  enough  ?  Wlaen  are  we  to  know  if  the  Oatlands  negroes 
belong  to  you  or  Max  ?  The  14th  October  is  not  so  far  ahead. 
Harm  Venus  brought  out  one  of  those  fine  old  hams  of  bacon 
to  be  cooked  last  week  in  honor  of  you,  cousin  Moll,  but  I  told 
her  to  put  it  by  as  we  were  going  to  have  one  wedding  certain 
— and  two  I  reckoned." 

"  I  should  think  you  knew  by  this  time,  cousin  Virginia,"  said 
Veronica,  "  that  allusions  of  that  kind  are  very  disagreeable  to 
me." 

And  Veronica  was  out  of  temper,  a  state  of  mind  which 
she  kept  up  until  we  neared  Fighterstown,  when  Mr.  Morrisson 
proposed  to  stop  at  the  post-office  and  get  our  letters. 

It  had.  been  a  court  day,  and  on  either  side  of  the  muddy 
street  stood  forty  or  fifty  saddle-horses  of  every  shade  and  kind, 
fastened  to  posts  and  racks  where  they  had  stood  since  morning. 
There  were  no  women,  save  here  and  there  a  black  girl,  in  the 
streets,  but  everywhere  men ;  men  of  every  condition,  most  of 
them  in  the  prime  of  life,  endlessly  chewing  a,nd  talking.  There 
were  groups  on  every  house  porch,  groups  afrabe  corners  of  the 

11* 


250  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

streets,  groups  sitting  upon  store  boxes,  groups  on  the  tavern 
porch  and  steps,  and  a  large  number  stood  about  the  post-office. 

We  rode  up  there  and  "  hitched  "  our  horses.  The  mail  was 
not  quite  sorted.  Mr.  Morrisson  made  us  alight  and  go  in  "  next 
door,"  which  was  the  principal  "  variety  store  and  dry  goods 
emporium  "  in  the  village.  The  moment  we  entered,  a  knot  of 
men  gathered  about  Mr.  Morrisson  asking  news  of  old  Mrs. 
Williams,  receiving  the  particulars  of  her  death,  and  telling 
anecdotes  to  her  son's  disadvantage.  I  found  he  had  been  so 
miserably  drunk  at  the  tavern-bar  when  the  boy  arrived  to  sum 
mon  him,  that  the  Doctor  had  him  carried  to  the  pump,  where 
after  a  time  they  brought  him  round  sufficiently  to  enable  him 
to  mount  his  horse,  in  which  condition  he  was  carried  out  to  his 
mother's  death-bed.  Every  body  seemed  to  have  the  same 
opinion  of  this  gentleman,  that  he  was  "  a  smart  man,  but  they 
reckoned  a  thorough  rascal,  and  a  disgrace  to  that  section  of  the 
country." 

At  length  the  mail  was  sorted.  Cousin  Virginia  was  getting 
the  Colonel,  who  was  master  of  the  store,  to  put  her  up  some  of 
his  "  elegant  crushed  sugar,"  and  Mr.  Morrisson,  always  ready  to 
remember  his  guests'  comfort,  had  bought  a  supply  of  ink  and 
pens  in  case  I  had  any  further  demand  for  them. 

"  Now,  cousin  Molly,  here  are  the  letters :  two  for  you." 

One  was  from  home  ;  the  other ! 

It  was  a  long  letter.  I  slipped  them  into  the  folds  of  my 
riding-dress,  and  galloped  home  as  fast  as  Angelo  would  carry 
me,  in  advance  of  the  rest  of  the  party. 

If  I  were  a  sculptor,  my  great  work  should  be  the  Angel  of 
Letters — he  who  carries  loving  words  and  sweet  home  interests 
from  heart  to  heart.  I  never  can  bear  to  think  of  the  material 
ism  of  tho  pn>t-office.  Sir  F ram-is  Iliad's  revelations  of  its 


OUR      CO  U  SIX      VERONICA.  251 

mysteries,  in  the  Quarterly,  jarred  upon  my  feelings  quite  as 
much  as  a  philosophical  and  meteorological  explanation  of  the 
rainbow  ruffled  the  poetic  sensibilities  of  Campbell. 

Oh !  most  delicious  hours  passed  in  the  deep  window-seat, 
drinking  in  the  contents  of  those  letters ;  one  of  them  holding 
out  to  me  the  severed  threads  of  many  a  domestic  interest, 
whilst  each  trivial  word  of  the  other  one  was  priceless,  freighted 
with  precious,  precious  evidences  of  remembrance  and  affection. 

True,  "  their  now  was  not  my  now,  nor  my  then  their  then  ;" 
but  I  lost  all  thought  of  that.  To  obliterate  the  sense  of  time  is 
one  of  the  duties  of  the  Angel  of  Letters.  They  carried  me 
again  to  England,  reviving  the  old  hopes,  and  the  old  thoughts, 
and  the  old  love,  between  which  and  my  present  life  the  Atlan 
tic  lay  like  a  great  gulf  since  my  arrival  in  Virginia. 

With  thoughtful  kindness,  my  cousins  left  me  alone  nearly  two 
hours,  and  then  Veronica  came  up  to  our  chamber,  and  told  me 
that  my  tea  had  been  long  standing,  and  she  thought  I  had 
better  come  down. 

It  was  the  first  evening  we  had  been  without  company  since 
our  arrival  at  Clairmont.  Phil  and  his  friend  Weston  Carter 
had  gone  into  Fighterstown  to  bring  up  some  men  to  sleep  in 
Max's  room — Max  being  away.  Veronica  sat  knitting  a  coarse 
yarn  stocking. 

"  Who  is  that  stocking  for,  Veronica  ?"  said  I,  too  happy  to 
compose  myself  to  any  useful  occupation. 

"  This  is  one  of  uncle  Israel's  winter  stockings,"  was  her  reply. 

"  What !  do  you  knit  stockings  for  the  negroes  ?"  cried  I. 

"  Yes,  and  you  will  have  to  knit  all  the  stockings  at  Stone- 
henge,  by-and-by;  you  must  take  into  consideration  whether 
you  are  adapted  to  hard  work  when  you  consent  to  become  a 
Virginia  matron,"  said  cousin  Virginia. 


252  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"If  you  please,  don't  make  any  more  such  jokes,"  said  I. 
"What  you  allude  to  is  impossible;  indeed  it  is,  cousin  Vir 
ginia." 

"  I  do  not  see  that,"  she  persisted.  "  I  am  sure  the  Governor 
is  thinking  of  it.  lie  paid  you  the  most  marked  attention.  The 
Governor  was  right  disturbed  at  your  sitting  at  the  side-table. 
Nobody  is  of  any  account  when  you  are  by.  He  wants  you  to 
be  mistress  of  Stonehenge ;  and  your  father,  I  should  think, 
would  like  to  see  you  take  your  grandmother's  place  in  the  old 
homestead.  It  would  be  recovering  more  than  all  the  family 
has  lost,  if  Max  had  Castleton  and  you  Stonehenge,  even  though 
so  much  of  the  property  has  been  sold  away  from  you.  I 
declare  it  would  be  real  good  times  to  have  you  settled  within 
ten  miles  of  us,  Molly." 

"Now,  don't  you  interfere  with  that,  Virginia,"  said  Mr.  Mor- 
risson.  "It  is  all  coming  right:  I  have  told  Tyrell  to  come 
over  here  as  much  as  he  likes,  and  I'll  secure  him  a  fair  field  to 
do  his  courting.  When  a  young  lady  and  young  gentleman 
stand  behind  the  curtains  sentimentalizing  in  the  moonlight,  and 
when  they  lose  themselves  in  the  woods,  and  stay  an  hour  and  a 
half  behind  the  rest  of  the  party,  and  when  the  young  lady  gets 
up  early  in  the  morning,  under  pretence  of  visiting  a  grave-yard, 
where  she  is  met  by  the  young  gentleman,  and  they  take  a  walk 
together  before  breakfast — we  all  know  what  it  is  coming  to." 

This  kind  of  thing  was  detestable.  I  tried  Veronica's  system 
of  being  cross,  but  I  am  never  very  good  at  being  cross,  and  it 
was  no  remedy.  So,  after  enduring  a  little  more  of  this  broad 
badinage,  which  I  could  not  parry,  I  got  up  and  said  good  night, 
and  went  to  my  own  chamber.  There  Veronica  soon  joined  me. 

"  Veronica,"  I  said,  "  T  wish  cousin  Virginia  and  Mr.  Morrisson 
would  let  alone  talking  of  that  notion  .they  have  taken  up.  It 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  253 

was  more  disagreeable  to  me  than  ever  to-night.  It  was  par 
ticularly  annoying  to  have  my  name  coupled  with  that  of  cousin 
Tyrell." 

"  Why  to-night  ?"  said  Veronica,  looking  at  me  with  surprise. 

"  Because Sit  down,  Veronica,  in  the  great  chair  ;  I 

have  not  been  able  to  tell  you  anything  since  I  came  here, 
because  you  have  been  so  cold  to  me." 

"Not  cold,  not  cold,  dearest,"  said  Veronica,  smoothing  my 
hair,  as  I  knelt  before  the  fire.  "  Not  cold  ! — Oh  !  how  I  wish 
you  understood  me,  Molly." 

I  ought  to  have  seized  this  opening  to  entreat  her  confidence, 
but  I  was  thinking  of  my  own  confession,  and  I  let  it  escape  me. 

"  After  all,  Molly,"  she  said,  "  if  Tyrell  should  ever  know  what 
is  for  his  own  good,  and  should  ask  you  to  be  his  wife,  what 
obstacle  would  prevent  your  loving  him  ?  You  would  make  a 
far  better  Virginian  than  I  shall  make,  and  be  more  easily 
reconciled  to  this  life,  which  wears  upon  me.  Why  do  you  say 
'  to-night  ?'  "  and  again  she  looked  at  me  keenly. 

"  Because  to-night  I  know  better  than  ever  how  much  I  care 
for  somebody  who  cares  for  me,"  was  my  low  answer.  "  Because 
to-night  I  have  had  a  letter  —  — ;"  and  I  drew  it  forth,  not 
of  course  for  her  to  see  it,  but  because  I  liked  to  hold  it  in  my 
hand. 

So  sitting  thus,  looking  into  the  fire-light,  while  the  great 
glowing  brands  flickered  and  smouldered  in  the  open  hearth, 
and  cold  night  air  came  down  the  ample  chimney,  I  told  her  all 
the  story  of  my  intercourse  with  Harry  Howard,  and  of  the  family 
pride  on  either  side  which  had  separated  us  from  each  other. 

And  Veronica  comforted  me,  and  bid  me  hope,  and  listened 
with  sweet  patience,  while  I  told  her  how  bitterly  poor  Harry 
complained  that  ho  could  get  no  news  of  me.  I  told  her  how 


254  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

he  called  me  "  prude,"  and  said  I  could  not  love  him  if  I  would 
not  write  to  him ;  but  that  I  could  not  correspond,  because  by 
doing  so  I  should  break  a  promise  to  my  father.  I  doubted  if  Mr. 
Howard  quite  understood  about  that  promise,  and  if  he  did  not, 
he  would  think  me  so  unkind.  Ho\v  could  I  let  him  know  that 
it  was  not  indifference  which  made  me  keep  my  resolution,  but 
that  I  was  bound  by  my  duty  to  my  father  ? 

And  Veronica  comforted  me  with  her  sweet  comfort,  and  told 
me  to  ask  Max,  that  he  would  advise  me  better  than  any  body ; 
and  helped  me  to  undress,  as  if  I  had  been  a  little  child  who 
wanted  petting.  And  she  hung  her  shawl  before  the  window,  to 
keep  out  the  beams  of  the  great  golden  moon,  which  were 
streaming  broadly  into  our  chamber,  awakening  no  thoughts  of 
Tyrell  in  my  heart,  as  I  glided  into  Dreamland  calmly  and  hap- 


OUR      COUSIN     VERONICA.  255 


CHAPTER    XII. 

Through  the  closed  blinds  the  glorious  sun 

Poured  in  a  dusky  beam, 
Like  the  celestial  ladder  seen 

By  Jacob  in  his  dream. 

And  ever  and  anon,  the  wind, 

Sweet  scented  with  the  hay, 
Turned  o'er  the  hymnbook's  fluttering  leaves, 

That  on  the  window  lay. 

II.  W.  LONGFELLOW. 

THE  carriage  which  had  brought  over  bags  and  bundles  and 
the  children  from  Stonehenge,  while  cousin  Virginia  rode  on 
horseback,  was  ordered  out  to  go  to  church  the  following  day. 
Weston  Carter  and  Mr.  Morrisson  went  with  us  on  horseback. 
Cousin  Virginia,  Veronica,  cousin  Phil  and  I  occupied  the  little 
carriage.  I  was  beginning  to  get  used  to  the  Virginia  roads, 
and  put  implicit  confidence  in  the  horses  Liz  and  Barney  and 
their  driver.  So  we  went  as  usual  over  rocks  a  yard  high — 
through  mud-holes  a  yard  deep ;  ruts  and  gullies  threatening  to 
upset  us  every  moment ;  stumps  in  the  middle  of  the  road ; 
brooks  and  streams  to  drive  through,  cousin  Virginia  screaming, 
Mr.  Morrisson  scolding,  I  laughing,  and  Phil  encouraging  Liz 
and  Barney  (who  was  blind),  over  the  worst  difficulties  of  our 
journey. 

"Hi,  Barney!      Get  up  there,  Liz  !"  cried  Phil.     "Wake  up 


256  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

old  girl,  can't  you  ?  I  reckon,  cousin  Molly,  you  couldn't  ditto 
such  a  piece  of  road  as  this  among  all  the  institutions 
of  your  country.  It's  enough  to  break  a  bird's  neck  to 
fly  over !" 

Divine  service  was  held  on  alternate  Sundays  at  the  pretty 
Episcopal  Church,  at  Fighterstown,  or  at  a  missionary  station 
called  Cranmer,  a  little  Chapel  in  the  woods,  on  the  borders  of 
Jefferson  and  Clarke  Counties.  Whenever  we  came  to  a  toler 
ably  smooth  "piece  of  going"  through  the  woods,  Phil  would 
strike  up  some  hymn  in  the  Episcopal  collection,  the  whole  of 
which  he  appeared  to  know,  and  Veronica,  cousin  Virginia,  and 
Weston  Carter,  would  immediately  join  him.  Nothing  can  be 
imagined  more  beautiful  than  the  effect  of  these  four  voices  echo 
ing  the  praises  of  God  through  the  everlasting  woods.  Here 
and  there,  we  met  parties  of  negroes  in  their  best  clothes,  going 
to  church,  or  making  holiday.  The  women  were  mostlv  dressed 

O  ti  *• 

in  white,  with  colored  ribbons  round  their  ample  waists,  while 
the  men  had  laid  aside  the  tattered  working  clothes,  the  color 
of  clods,  the   livery  of  their  servitude,  and  wore  broad-cloth  or 
frieze  suits  of  all  kinds  of  curious  cuts  and  dates,  either  purchased 
by  themselves  or  the  cast  off  property  of  their  masters. 

We  overtook  Uncle  Israel,  who  was  a  preacher  of  some  note, 
and  held  frequent  meetings  in  the  open  air  in  clivers  parts  of 
the  neighborhood,  at  which  the  law  compelled  the  attendance  of 
some  white  person.  The  old- gentleman  was  sweltering  along,  it 
being  a  hot  clay  in  June,  in  a  wadded  garment  of  black  camlet, 
down  to  his  heels,  such  as  was  worn  in  the  world  of  fashion,  a 
generation  or  two  since,  when  France  adopted  winter  fashions 
from  the  Russians — a  cross  between  a  great  coat  and  a  dressing- 
gown.  He  had  too  great  an  affection  for  this  raiment,  which  he 
thought  looked  clerical,  to  sacrifice  the  dignity  of  wearing  it  to 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  257 

any  personal  consideration.  He  was  going  to  walk  about  seven 
miles  to  meet  his  congregation.  Mr.  Morrisson  asked  him  why 
he  had  not  taken  a  mule  or  a  horse.  "  Laws  Mas'r,"  said  Uncle 
Israel,  "  the  horses  done  beat  out  with  las'  week's  ploughin',  an' 
de  mules  warn't  made  to  be  nuffin  but  a  torment  to  black  folks. 
Ole  Uncle  Cudjoe  says  he  'spects  dat  ar's  what  white  folks  buys 
um  for." 

""Well,"  said  Phil,  "get  up  behind,  old  gentleman,  and  I'll 
carry  you  as  far  as  Cranmer,  any  how." 

So  we  travelled  along  with  this  poor  black  preacher  in  the 
clerical  skirts,  sitting  behind  us  on  the  foot-board. 

The  church  at  Cranmer  was  built  on  the  slope  of  a  beautiful 
smooth  rounded  hill,  commanding  a  superb  view  of  the  sur 
rounding  country.  Farms,  amongst  which  was  Oatlands,  with  its 
lake,  and  waving  wheat-fields  and  majestic  woods,  lay  at  our 
feet,  clear,  bright,  and  beautiful,  glowing  with  summer  sunshine. 
The  little  church  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  wood.  Under  the  trees 
were  '•  hitched "  the  horses  of  the  congregation,  stamping  and 
whiskinor  their  tails — many  of  them  with  side-saddles.  Around 

o  »/ 

the  church- door  stood  the  men,  and  about  a  hundred 
negroes,  it  being  usual  for  the  male  part  of  the  worshippers  to 
stand  in  the  Church-porch  and  gossip  till  the  beautiful  opening 
words  of  the  American  service,  "  The  Lord  is  in  His  holy  temple, 
let  all  the  earth  keep  silence  before  Him,"  broke  up  their  talk 
and  they  came  clattering  in  together  to  their  places. 

Tyrell  and  Max  were  looking  out  for  us,  and  helped  us  from 
the  carriage. 

"  Well,"  said  I  to  Max,  "  did  Tyrell  have  his  interview  with 
Mr.  Williams  ?  What  have  you  done  ?" 

"  Nothing,"  said  he.  "  The  man  is  a  deeper  rascal  than  we  took 
him  for,  and  as  to  your  friend  Tyrell,  Molly,  he  is  a  trump.  One 


258  OUR      COUSIN      V  E  K  O  N  I  C  A  . 

does  not  often  meet  with  fellows  like  Tyrell.  There  is  only  one 
thing  to  be  done  :  we  ought  to  getthe  negroes  out  of  harm's  way, 
and  I  want  Tyrell  to  decide  on  carrying  them  off  at  once,  and 
let  me  take  the  risk,  but  he  won't  hear  of  it  till  everything  else 
possible  has  been  tried.  You  see  he  was  born  and  bred  in 
Virginia,  and  has  a  master's  prejudices  about  this  cursed  slavery 
— the  only  point  we  don't  agree  upon." 

Veronica,  meanwhile,  was  getting  a  clearer  account  of  what  had 
passed  from  cousin  Tyrell.  A  very  few  words  served  to  tell  her 
the  state  of  the  case ;  and  as  we  sat  waiting  for  the  commence 
ment  of  the  service  on  the  wooden  benches  of  the  primitive  barn- 
like  little  building,  where  we  could  see  the  green  woods  waving 
through  chinks  in  the  unpainted  rafters,  as  well  as  through  the 
door  and  windows,  she  told  me  what  she  had  gathered  from  our 
cousin. 

Mr.  "Williams  scoffed  at  the  idea  that  his  mother  had  intended 
to  make  a  will,  besides  which,  he  denied  that  he  or  his  mother, 
to  his  knowledge,  had  received  any  money  from  Uncle  Chris 
topher,  or  had  given  him  any  paper  purporting  to  be  a  receipt 
for  four  hundred  and  sixty-nine  dollars.  He  said  it  was  all 
folly  to  imagine  the  negro  had  laid  by  such  a  sum. 

After  this  Tyrell  had  been  to  see  Jake  Gibson,  who  said  that 
Williams  had  been  a  long  time  in  his  debt  for  advances  of 
cash  and  for  his  tavern  score.  He  laughed  at  the  notion  of 
selling  Aunt  Saph  and  her  children  for  six  hundred  dollars, 
as  Tyrell  proposed,  saying,  he  wanted  the  woman  for  his  cook, 
but  if  he  wished  to  "pocket"  them,  the  negro  trader  in  Win 
chester  would  give  him  double  that  money.  Veronica  said 
par  parenthese,  that  she  had  never  known  negroes  to  be  sold 
to  a  trader  by  good  families  in  the  neighborhood,  except  for 
some  serious  fault,  but  that  death,  debt,  n-ime,  and  other 


OUR      COUSIN     VERONICA.  259 

causes,  threw  many  into  the  hands  of  the  soul-driver,  lying  on  the 
look-out  for  them  at  Winchester,  and  that  such  people  as  Will 
Williams  and  Gibson,  who  had  no  characters  to  lose,  were  will 
ing  enough  to  convert  human  property  when  it  fell  into  their 
hands,  into  money. 

Uncle  Christopher  was  sexton  of  the  Cranmer  Church,  and 
Tyrell  and  Max  had  come  early  and  questioned  him  about  his 
money,  amongst  which  Aunt  Saph  declared  he  had  had  two  notes 
for  a  hundred  dollars.  He  said  that  one  of  his  young  masters 
among  the  engineers  at  Harper's  Ferry  had  told  him  it  was 
hardly  safe  to  keep  his  money  wrapped  in  an  old  coat  in  the 
corner  of  the  tent,  and  had  proposed  to  get  two  hundred  dollars 
changed  into  notes  at  the  office  of  the  superintendent  of  the 
railroad.  This  gentleman  was  now  supposed  to  be  in  Balti 
more.  Tyrell  had  then  asked  Uncle  Christopher  if  any  white 
man  had  been  present  when  he  paid  Mr.  Williams,  or  if  any 
Avhite  person  in  Fighterstown  could  identify  the  money. 

But  Christopher  replied  that  till  he  gave  it  to  his  wife  he  had 
carried  the  notes  about  his  person  day  and  night,  saying  nothing 
to  any  body  except  to  his  young  masters  at  Harper's  Ferry,  not 
wishing  to  have  it  known  that  he  had  cash  to  that  amount 
about  him. 

"  You  are  sure  you  showed  the  money  to  no  white  man,  Uncle 
Christopher  ?" 

"  I  never  shown  it  Mas'r — yes — stay !  My  ole  woman  she 
asked  Mas'  Felix  one  day  when  he  was  to  work  up  dar  to  count 
it  over." 

Tyrell  was  now  on  the  watch  for  Mr.  Felix,  who  he  hoped 
would  come  to  church,  to  ask  him  whether  he  remembered  any 
thing  about  this  circumstance  and  could  identify  the  money. 
Mr.  Felix,  however,  did  not  come  to  Cranmer,  and  after  waiting 


2GO  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

at  the  door  till  the  service  was  half  over,  Max  and  Tyrell  came 
in  to  the  church  and  took  their  places  amongst  the  congregation. 

After  the  service  was  ended  Veronica  and  I  both  turned  to 
Tyrell. 

"What  do  you  mean  to  do  if  you  get  up  evidence  that  Mr. 
Williams  has  received  and  appropriated  Uncle  Christopher's 
money  ?" 

"  Nothing  can  be  done,  I  fear,  except  to  deepen  my  conviction 
that  he's  the  meanest  white  man  in  the  country.  I  may  get 
evidence  enough  to  convince  me,  for  I  would  believe  Uncle  Chris 
topher  on  his  word  in  preference  to  half  the  members  of  Con 
gress  upon  oath,  but  colored  testimony  is  inadmissible  against  a 
white  man ;  and  besides,  Miss  Veronica,  I  wish  to  spare  your 
cousin  from  being  publicly  prosecuted." 

"But  Sapphira  and  Uncle  Christopher?  How  does  Uncle 
Christopher  bear  it  ?"  said  I. 

"  I  did  not  tell  him  the  extent  of  my  fears,  he  does  not  know 
that  Gibson  claims  his  family,  but  he  takes  the  ill  news  as  far  as 
he  knows  it  in  the  spirit  of  a  Christian.  He  said  to  me,  ''  The 
matter  is  safe  an'  right  Mas'  Jim,  an'  whar  it  ought  to  be.  Vv'har 
de  Lord  says  '  all  right,  Christopher,'  I  ain't  gwine  to  say  '  No, 
Lord,  it's  all  wrong.'  I  leaves  it  in  the  hands  of  our  kin' 
Heavenly  Father,  an'  every  other  thing,  thank  de  Lord  I  can  put 
that  too.  The  king's  heart  is  as  rivers  of  water,  says  the  Scrip 
ture,  an'  He  turneth  it  whithersoever  He  will.  Just  so  if  de  Lord 
please  he'll  turn  his  heart  and  it  shall  be  jus  as  it  is  best  to  be, 
I  know  dat  mas'r." 

"  Oh !  but  will  Aunt  Saph  be  Jake  Gibson's  slave  or  be  sold 
away  down  south  ?  I  never  could  bear  that,"  said  Veronica. 

"No!"  said  Tyrell  with  energy.  "These  are  not  flush  times 
with  any  of  us,  cousin  Veronica,  but  I  can  afford  to  prevent  that, 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  261 

and  I  will.  The  law  receives  no  colored  testimony  against  a  white 
man,  but  the  public  will  believe  Uncle  Christopher  in  preference 
to  Mr.  Williams.  If  I  prove  to  my  entire  satisfation  that  Will 
Williams  knowingly  appropriated  that  poor  black  Christian's 
hard-earned  notes,  I  shall  confront  him  and  charge  him  with  his 
fraud,  and  if  we  can  get  white  evidence  enough  to  take  the 
matter  into  court  my  father  will  threaten  him  with  prosecution 
on  the  part  of  the  heirs  to  the  estate  of  your  uncle.  The  law 
considers  the  earnings  of  the  slave  the  property  of  his  owner, 
and  wrong  done  to  Uncle  Christopher  is  wrong  done  to  his 
master.  I  think  a  threat  like  this  from  a  man  of  such  weight  in 
our  community  as  my  father  will  bring  Mr.  Williams  to  his 
senses,  and  that  he  will  sell  me  the  negroes  for  a  small  advance 
on  the  original  bargain  of  six  hundred  dollars,  after  which  I  shall 
run  them  off  into  a  free  State  or  send  them  for  safe  keeping  to  a 
friend  in  the  District  of  Columbia.  Jake  Gibson  may  bring  an 
action  against  me  if  he  likes,  but  I  doubt  if  the  paper  is  valid 
upon  which  he  might  assert  a  claim,  and  I  rather  think  that 
while  he  would  dread  an  exposure  in  the  court  room,  the  public 
sentiment  of  the  community  would  sustain  me  in  any  suit  that 
could  be  brought  betAveen  us  before  any  court  in  Jefferson  or 
Clarke  Counties." 

Tyrell  paused  a  moment,  and  the  flash  in  his  fine  eyes  softened 
as  he  said  :  "  There  is  one  other  consideration,  and  that  is,  if  I 
should  be  driven  to  this  necessity,  Avhat  ought  to  be  done  with 
Uncle  Christopher  ?  If  we  send  Aunt  Saph  and  her  two  chil 
dren  beyond  Gibson's  reach  must  we  separate  him  from  his 
family  ?" 

"  No — no  !"  cried  Veronica.     "  Why  cannot  he  go  too?" 
"  I  must  know  by  what  authority.     Who  does  he  belong  to  ?" 
said  Tyrell. 


262  OUR.      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  He  will  belong  to  me.  I  have  arranged  that  with  yoTTr 
father,"  said  Veronica  quickly. 

"Miss  Veronica,  it  may  be  painful  to  you  to  discuss  this  busi 
ness,"  said  Tyrell,  "  but  you  had  better  hear  the  truth.  In  case 
you  decline  any  offer  of  marriage  from  your  cousin  Max,  there 
will  be  no  opportunity  to  threaten  Mr.  Williams  with  a  suit,  for 
so  far  as  Oatlands  and  its  negroes  are  concerned  he  will  become 
your  uncle's  heir,  and  will  not  only  lay  claims  to  Aunt  Sapphira 
and  her  boys,  but  to  her  husband." 

Veronica  flushed  angrily  at  the  beginning  of  this  speech,  but 
her  auger  faded  as  she  listened,  and  she  said  "  My  cousin  knows 
and  will  respect  my  wishes.  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  and 
hope  that  I  shall  never  be  placed  under  the  necessity  of  doing 
any  act  which  might  bring  such  a  calamity." 

"  If  that  is  the  case — if  you  have  reason  to  be  sure  that  the 
question  of  ownership  lies  between  you  and  Max — I  shall  ven 
ture,  in  case  of  necessity,  to  take  the  course  that  I  have  named 
if  it  meets  with  the  approval  of  both  of  you." 

"It  has  my  sanction  ;  I  shall  agree  to  anything  you  do,"  she  said. 

"  But  you  are  not  of  age,  nor  have  you  any  legal  guardian  by 
whom  you  can  act.  How  is  it  with  Max  ?  Uncle  Christopher, 
though  no  longer  very  young,  is  a  valuable  servant.  Will  Max 
give  up  his  claim  if  he  becomes  his  property  ?" 

••  Max  will  never  wish  to  profit,"  I  exclaimed,  "  by  an  institu 
tion  he  abhors." 

"Miss  Molly,"  said  Tyrell,  with  a  forced  smile,  "men's 
principles  differ  upon  this  point,  according  to  their  personal 
relations  to  slavery." 

"  He  shall  tell  you  himself  what  his  opinion  is,"  said  I ;  and  I 
beckoned  him  to  join  our  group,  which  stood  apart  from  the 
rest  of  the  party. 


OUR      COUSIN     VERONICA.  263 

:'Max,  Veronica  lias  a  request  to  make  to  you,"  I  said,  and 
walked  away  to  join  my  Clairmont  cousins. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say,"  said  Veronica,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
turning  to  follow  me. 

"  What  is  it,  Veronica  ?"  said  Max,  taking  her  hand  and  de 
taining  her. 

"  Nothing  1"  she  said,  vehemently,  "  and  when  I  say  '  nothing] 
I  desire  you  to  believe  me." 

Max  relinquished  her  hand,  and  Veronica  was  ashamed  of  her 
petulance. 

"  Forgive  me,  cousin  Max,"  she  said ;  "  my  temper  is  not 
what  it  ought  to  be.  I  don't  know  what  to  do,  nor  what  to  say. 
It  seems  to  me  you  are  making  a  great  many  sacrifices  on  my 
account ;  but  if  cousin  Tyrell  sends  Aunt  Sapphira  to  the  North, 
I  am  quite  ready  to  give  up  my  claim  to  Uncle  Christopher." 

Max  did  not  understand  what  she  meant  to  convey  to  him, 
and  Veronica,  having  advanced  thus  far  in  her  subject,  gathered 
courage  and  went  on. 

"  I  mean  that  we  understand  each  other.  A  word  from  you 
to  me  might  give  Mr.  Williams  a  legal  claim  to  Oatlands,  and 

to  Uncle  Christopher  as  well  as  to  Aunt  Saph.  I I 

(and  the  tears  she  struggled  to  conceal  rose  in  her  beautiful 
blue  eyes,  as  she  spoke)  I  can  trust  your  generosity.  Will  you 
give  your  sanction  to  a  plan  which  would  send  Uncle  Christo 
pher  to  the  North  with  his  family  ?  Without  it,  cousin  Tyrell 
will  not  act.  Will  you  do  this,  because  he  is  the  son  of  my  old 
Mammy  ?" 

"  Come  here,  Uncle  Christopher,"  said  Max.  "  You  told  me 
just  now  you  were  the  son  of  old  Mammy.  I  do  not  forget  the 
promises  I  made  at  the  death-bed  of  that  good  old  woman. 
You  have  my  free  consent,  old  gentleman,  so  far  as  I  have  any 


264  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

claim  upon  you  as  my  servant,  to  take  yourself  over  Mason  and 
Dixon's  line  as  fast  as  possible.  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  you 
out  of  slavery." 

Uncle  Christopher,  bewildered,  looked  at  Veronica,  who  said 
in  a  low  voice, 

"  And  so  shall  I." 

Tyrell,  more  practical  than  they,  came  up  and  whispered  to 
Uncle  Christopher  to  come  over  to  Stonehenge  the  next  day,  for 
he  wanted  to  have  a  talk  with  him,  and  then  we  got  into  the 
carriage.  Uncle  Christopher  put  up  the  steps.  Tyrell  and  Max 
mounted  their  horses,  and  we  drove  home,  scarcely  speaking  all 
the  way. 

We  reached  Clairmont  in  time  for  a  cold  dinner  at  three 
o'clock.  Tyrell,  who  had  quitted  us  in  Fighterstown,  came  in 
when  it  was  half  over,  and  after  the  cloth  was  cleared  away, 
drew  Max  on  to  the  front  porch,  and  told  him  that  Mr.  Felix 
said  the  hundred  dollar  notes  in  Christopher's  possession  had 
been  good  notes  of  the  Valley  Bank  of  Virginia.  He  added 
that  Will  Williams  had  changed  a  hundred  dollar  note  of  the  • 
Valley  Bank  within  a  few  days,  to  pay  his  score  at  the  tavern  at 
Fighterstown. 

Then  Phil  was  called  on  to  the  front  porch  to  join  the  consul 
tation,  and  Mr.  Morrisson  kept  out  of  the  way  ;  and  that  evening, 
instead  of  the  usual  Sunday  evening  chants  and  hymns  sung  by 
the  whole  family,  every  one  was  grave  and  silent.  Veronica,  on 
the  back  porch,  taught  a  Sunday  class  of  little  colored  children, 
or  went  into  aunt  Edmonia's  chamber  and  sat  there,  with  a  book 
shading  her  eyes. 

Tyrell  went  off  so  late,  having  been  in  conversation  with  Phil 
and  Max  up  to  the  last  moment,  that  aunt  Edmonia  was 
unhappy  at  the  idea  of  his  long  ride  after  night-fall,  and  could 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  265 

not  sleep  for  thinking  of  him;  and  Phil  and  Max  made  an 
appointment  to  ride  over  to  Stonehenge  the  next  day  to  Mrs. 
Williams's  funeral. 

Max  was  in  pretty  good  spirits  all  that  evening.  I  think  he 
had  gathered  encouragement  rather  than  otherwise,  from  what 
Veronica  had  said  to  him,  or  rather  from  the  tone  and  manner 
that  accompanied  her  words. 


12 


266  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

But  wherefore  do  I  murmur  thus, 

This  world  ig  very  wide, 
My  heart  shall  be  an  omnibus 

And  carry  twelve  inside. 

'Tis  true  that  on  the  way,  perchance, 

Some  to  drop  off  begin, 
But  can  we  not  as  we  advance 

Take  many  others  in  ? 

P0XCIT. 

RESIDENTS  in  the  Southern  States  pay  a  tax  upon  their  privi 
leges  as  the  dominant  race  under  the  "peculiar  institution." 
They  are  the  lawful  prey  of  their  dependents,  and  the  tax  is  levied 
somewhat  disproportionately  on  "  strangers  and  sojourners," 
who  not  only  are  glad  to  meet  all  demands  on  them  for  service 
with  unusual  liberality,  on  account  of  the  position  of  the  servitors, 
but  a  petty  pilfering,  very  difficult  to  defeat,  is  carried  on  against 
all  the  little  travelling  possessions  of  the  stranger. 

Max,  either  from  some  hint  from  Tyrell  or  from  some  expe 
rience  in  the  first  days  of  his  stay  at  Clairmont,  considered  his 
room  less  safe  than  mine,  and  telling  me  in  confidence  that  he 
had  not  a  lock  and  key  in  his  apartment,  requested  me  to  take 
charge  of  his  money,  which  was  all  in  English  gold. 

About  dusk  the  next  day  he  came  gallopping  back  from  Stone- 
benge,  whither  he  had  gone  with  Phil  to  Mrs.  Willliams's  funeral. 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  26*7 

He  had  ridden  in  great  haste,  was  flushed  and  heated,  and 
taking  rne  aside  asked  me  to  give  him  sixty  sovereigns,  as  they 
were  wanted  to  pay  Williams  for  Aunt  Saph  and  her  children,  in 
order  that  they  might  carry  them  out  of  Gibson's  reach  as  soon 
as  possible. 

I  went  up  stairs  to  get  the  gold,  and  looking  from  the  window 
saw  Max  upon  the  grass  before  the  house,  talking  eagerly  and 
confidentially  with  Veronica.  They  had  now  a  subject  of  com 
mon  interest,  and  I  paused  a  moment  ere  I  called  him  away 
from  her. 

As  I  counted  the  money  into  his  hand  I  said,  remembering 
Veronica's  advice,  "  Stop  a  minute  Max — I  have  something  that 
I  want  to  say  to  you." 

Max  looked  hurried  and  fussy,  and  said  in  rather  an  impatient 
tone : 

"  Well ! — but  don't  ask  me  any  questions  about  this  business, 
Molly !" 

The  human  heart  is  like  a  pickle-jar — you  will  get  nothing 
out  of  it  if  you  shake  it  in  a  hurry. 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  I  believe  I  will  not  trouble  you  Max — only 
Veronica  advised  me  to  speak  to  you." 

"Well !  what  is  it?"  said  he  coming  into  the  room  and  grow 
ing  more  attentive  when  I  mentioned  Veronica. 

"It  is  only  something  about  myself.  Only  a  letter  I  have  had 

from from  Mr.  Howard.  Veronica  seemed  to  think  you 

were  the  proper  person  to  advise  me." 

"  Do  you  mean  me  to  see  it  ?" 

"!N"o — not  quite.  It  is  a  very  pleasant  letter,  and  he  says 
I  am  so  very  unkind ;  that  he  knows  nothing  about  us  since 
we  left  England.  You  know  I  promised  papa  I  would  not 
write  to  him." 


268  OUK     COUSIN     VERONICA 


!—  no,"  said  Max.  "  Of  course  it  is  not  your  place  to 
write.  I  wish  with  all  my  heart  that  that  business  were  given  up, 
Molly.  I  never  had  a  very  great  opinion  of  your  friend—  though 
he  was  just  the  sort  of  man  to  captivate  your  fancy  ;  but  I  should 
object  very  much  to  my  sister's  being  looted  down  upon  as  she 
will  be  if  she  marries  into  that  family.  I  should  think  you  were 
Virginian  enough,  Molly,  to  have  some  pride  of  ancestry.  Think 
of  that  black  Begum  barely  tolerating  my  sister  !  I  declare  it 
makes  me  angry  to  think  of  it." 

I  began  to  cry,  for  this  picture  was  not  a  pleasant  one.  It 
had  often  presented  itself  to  my  imagination,  though  I  kept  it 
out  of  sight  by  my  attachment  to  Mr.  Howard. 

"  If  we  care  for  one  another,  Max,  that  regard  will  out-weigh 
all  paltry  considerations." 

"  I  do  not  believe  it  will  with  him,  in  the  long  run,"  said  Max. 
"It  is  no  joke  being  a  poor  baronet  with  a  great  unprofitable 
place  like  Howard  Park,  which  must  be  shut  up  or  let  for  want 
of  ready  money.  Molly,  don't  you  see  that  there  are  better  men 
who  show  symptoms  of  giving  you  their  attachment  ?  Don't 
you  know  that  there  are  families  with  better  blood  than  any 
Howards  of  Howard  Park,  who  would  be  honored  by  an  alliance 
with  Miss  Mandeville  ?  Don't  you  know  that  the  deepest  regret 
of  our  father's  life  would  be  dissipated  by  such  a  marriage  as  is 
open  to  you  ?  I  declare  when  I  look  upon  the  lands  that  our 
forefathers  possessed  it  seems  to  me  I  would  do  anything  to 
bring  them  back  into  the  family." 

"Max  I  won't  hear  you  say  such  things.  They  are  entirely 
untrue.  I  have  received  this  letter  and  I  thought  it  right  to  ask 
you  whether,  as  Mr.  Howard  does  not  appear  quite  to  understand 
about  my  promise,  you  would  write  him  a  few  lines.  Will  you 
copy  what  I  have  written.  Max,  and  tell  him  that  I  cannot 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  269 

carry  on  any  correspondence  until  better  times,  because  of  my 
promise  to  my  father  ?" 

I  gave  him  the  paper  and  he  carried  it  off,  stopping  as  he 
passed  along  the  porch  to  say  a  few  words  to  Veronica. 
Aunt  Edmonia  thought  a  storm  was  coming  up,  and  just  as  he 
was  mounting  in  the  wood,  she  called  from  her  chamber  window, 
"  Oigh !  Oliver ! — oigh !  Tom  Tad  !  Where  are  those  children  ? 
I  want  them  to  tell  Max  to  take  Mr.  Morrisson's  water-proof 
cape  with  him.  Veronica,  my  dear,  will  you  call  to  him  and 
tell  him  he  will  get  wet  to  a  certainty." 

Veronica  took  the  cape  from  the  table  in  the  hall,  and  ran 
across  the  grass.  He  did  not  see  her  till  he  had  mounted,  and 
then  his  horse  turning  somewhat  sharply  had  nearly  thrown  her 
down.  I  watched  them  from  the  window.  Max  sprang  from 
Black  Mike  in  great  agitation ;  then  having  made  sure  she  was 
unhurt,  he  put  on  the  heavy  cape,  though  it  was  as  unseasonable 
as  Uncle  Israel's  douillette  of  camlet  and  Avadding,  and  she 
stood  holding  his  bridle,  patting  the  nose  of  his  black  horse,  and 
passing  her  soft  fingers  through  the  heavy  tresses  of  his  mane  as 
he  stood  pawing  the  ground. 

The  letter  I  asked  Max  to  write  for  me  ran  thus : 

"MYDEABSlK, 

"My  sister  has  received  from  you  several  long  letters,  the  last  of 
which  has  reached  her  during  her  sojourn  in  Virginia.  She  begs  me  to 
.  say  that  she  is  bound,  by  a  positive  promise  to  her  father,  not  to  cor 
respond  with  you  till  the  dawn  of  happier  times.  She  is  well,  and  begs 
me  to  assure  you  of  the  great  pleasure  your  letters  have  afforded  her, 
and  of  her  continual  remembrance.  And  with  the  renewal  of  the  assu 
rance,  that  only  a  positive  promise  which  she  cannot  break,  prevents  her 
answering  your  letters,  believe  me,  my  dear  sir,  to  be, 

(i  Yours  very  sincerely, 

"MAX  MAXDEVILLE." 


270  OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA. 

The  letter  that  Max  sent  was  as  follows  : 

"  DEAR  SIR, 

"I  learn  from  ray  sister  Miss  Mandeville  that  she  has  received  several 
letters  from  you — one  of  them  within  a  day  or  two.  I  beg  to  say  that 
her  relations  have  exacted  a  positive  promise  that  she  will  not  continue 
to  correspond  with  you.  She  is  well,  and  passing  an  agreeable  summer 
among  her  new  friends  in  this  country.  She  begs  me  to  tell  you  this, 
and  to  unite  her  best  remembrances  with  the  compliments  of 
"  Your  obedient  servant, 

"  T.  L.  MAXDEVILLE." 

And  when  I  asked  Max  some  months  after  if  my  letter  had 
been  sent  as  I  had  written  it,  he  answered,  with  the  full  belief 
that  he  spoke  the  truth, 

"  Yes,  I  copied  it,  but  with  the  omission  of  lots  of  feminine  trash. 
That  was  a  woman's  letter,  Molly,  not  a  man's.  I  could  not 
copy  all  that  stuff.  You  all  of  you,  say  anything  you  have  to 
say  twice  over  in  the  shortest  note,  and  are  more  diffuse  about  it 
the  last  time  than  you  were  the  first;  just  as  your  only  way  of 
arguing  is  to  say  over  again  a  little  louder  what  has  been 
answered  before." 

Old  Mrs.  Williams  was  buried  the  next  day,  and  our  gentle 
men  staid  at  Stonehenge  till  after  the  funeral.  Veronica,  who 
appeared  to  know  more  about  their  plans  than  I,  was  very  rest 
less  and  uneasy. 

It  was  dull  at  Clainnont,  and  had  been  for  a  day  or  two,  for 
the  servants  and  horses  were  all  ploughing  corn  ;  and  as  other 
horses  and  negroes  were  engaged  in  the  same  work,  there  was 
no  visiting  amonofst  the  neiijh.borino'  families  at  that  season.  I 

o  o  o  o 

amused   myself   that  day,  for  Veronica  was    too    preoccupied 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  2*71 

to  talk,  by  listening  to  cousin  Virginia's  endless  anecdotes  of 
queer  originals  who  had  flourished  at  various  periods  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  by  investigating  the  domestic  arrangements  of 
the  family. 

I  penetrated  into  the  kitchen — a  dark  cavern  of  a  place 
detached  from  the  main  building,  with  a  large  chimney  big 
enough  to  burn  a  cord  of  wood,  and  roast  "  a  beef,"  as  cousin 
Virginia  told  me.  The  principal  light  came  from  the  fire, 
around  which  three  or  four  of  the  little  darkeys  squatted,  though 
I  had  been  gasping  in  the  coolest  places  in  the  house,  with  the 
thermometer  at  ninety-two  in  the  shade.  Marm  Venus  was 
skimming  something  in  a  pot,  and  rapped  them  over  the  head 
with  the  iron  spoon  as  we  came  in,  and  then  put  the  spoon 
back  in  the  pot  again.  I  felt  that  it  did  not  do  to  examine 
into  the  mysteries  of  the  delicious,  savoury  dishes  which  were 
there  composed. 

After  an  early  dinner,  I  mounted  Angelo,  but  it  was  only 
to  ride  into  the  corn-field  with  Mr.  Morrisson,  and  sit  by  him 
Avhilst  he  discussed  with  George,  or  Joe,  or  Wash,  or  old  Uncle 
Cudjoe,  or  Uncle  Israel,  the  relativea  dvantages  of  the  old  plough, 
or  the  Berkshire,  or  new  manures,  which  he  was  never  likely  to 
apply,  or  magnificent  improvements  he  had  not  money  to  under 
take,  or  the  relative  merits  of  his  own  and  neighboring  cattle. 
Any  quantity  of  the  servants'  time,  as  well  as  Mr.  Morrisson's, 
was  wasted  in  these  talks,  which  had  no  practical  advantage 
that  I  could  perceive,  except  that  they  drew  out  kindly  feelings 
between  himself  and  his  negroes.  The  former  asserted  their 
opinions  with  entire  freedom  of  speech,  and  to  my  astonishment, 
offered  to  bet  on  some  disputed  point  with  their  master ! 

Mr.  Morrisson  had  no  overseer,  having  too  few  negroes,  and 
placing  great  dependence  upon  Uncle  Israel,  his  head  man.  He 


272  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

generally  sat  on  the  front  porch  a  large  part  of  the  day,  and 
gave  his  orders. 

"Oigh!  Tommy  Tad!  you  run  down  and  drive  those  cows 
out  of  the  wheat !  They  must  have  eaten  or  damaged  nigh 
about  a  bushel !" 

"  Why  don't  you  put  up  hurdles,  Mr.  Morrisson  ?" 

"Hurdles?  I  don't  know  about  hurdles;  but  I  am  thinking  of 
putting  up  an  elegant  wire  fence,  which  will  be  a  great  improve 
ment  to  the  property;  and  as  I  am  thinking  of  it,  it  is  not 
worth  while  going  to  the  expense  of  any  other ;  so  I  keep  a  live 
fence  in  the  mean  time.  Oigh  !  Tommy !  Tommy !  run  and 
chase  that  calf,  boy !  Why  have  you  let  it  get  over  that  broken 
railing  ?  It  is  eating  up  rny  celery  beds,  and  doing  mischief  in 
the  garden." 

On  the  whole,  the  impressions  made  on  my  mind  was,  that  in 
matters  of  farming,  masters  and  negroes  were  all  "trifling" 
alike,  to  use  the  expression  of  the  country ;  and  that  "  the  earth 
brought  forth  grass,  the  herb  yielding  seed,  and  the  fruit  tree 
yielding  fruit  after  his  kind,"  less  in  gratitude  for  the  assiduities 
of  man,  than  from  observance  of  the  laws  of  nature.  It  struck  me 
that  on  small  farms  such  as  Clairmont,  where  the  servants  were 
directly  under  the  eye  of  the  master,  the  rule  in  ordinary  times 
must  be  very  mild,  and  the  hand  of  power  light ;  but  I  had  seen 
enough  of  Virginians  to  know,  that  when  their  passions  were 
roused,  especially  under  the  influence  of  toddy,  there  was  no 
telling  what  might  be  the  extent  of  their  violence.  The  house 
servants  I  pitied  more  than  I  did  the  people  in  the  field  ;  they 
were  continually  fussed  over  and  harassed,  till,  to  use  our 
mirsey's  expression,  they  had  "no  peace  of  their  souls."  But 
they  took  it  quietly,  not  troubled  by  any  bump  of  conscientious 
ness,  but  evidently  under  the  impression  that  it  was  their  mis- 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  2*73 

tress'  business  in  life  to  scold  and  drive  them  round,  and  look 
after  them,  and  theirs  to  escape  her  just  as  often  as  they  could, 
and  do  just  as  little  as  possible.  The  pride  in  work  taken  by  a 
stirring,  smart,  sharp-tempered  woman  in  New  England,  or  the 
sense  of  duty  fulfilled  which  animates  a  good  servant  in  the  old 
country,  was  entirely  unknown  amongst  these  people.  They 
Avaited  assiduously  day  and  night  upon  you  if  sick,  from  kind 
feeling,  or  if  a  stranger,  from  a  natural  sense  of  hospitality. 
Gentle  and  docile,  you  could  easily  make  them  fond  of  you. 
But  the  Avhole  system  was  vicious :  they  were  brought  up  to 
work  when  driven  like  the  beasts,  Avithout  any  sense  of  human 
responsibility ;  this  feeling  Avas  not  even  cultivated  in  theii 
domestic  relations.  A.  man  was  not  responsible  for  the  main 
tenance  of  his  Avife,  or  the  future  prospects  of  his  children ;  and 
this  under  the  very  best  aspects  of  the  system.  The  faults  of 
the  master,  reacting  on  the  servants,  Avere  visited  on  the  Avhite 
children,  and  so  on  through  succeeding  generations.  The  Avrongs 
sheltered  under  the  "  institution,"  avenge  themselves  very  liber 
ally,  and,  as  is  always  the  case  (witness  the  history  of  Louis 
XVI.  and  the  horrors  of  the  First  RoA'olution),  the  retribution  of 
an  evil  system  falls  most  heavily  upon  victims  the  least  guilty. 

Still  the  physical  and  material  condition  of  the  servants  of 
the  place  Avas  so  superior  to  anything  I  had  imagined  about 
slavery,  that  I  Avas  greatly  impressed  by  it  at  first,  as  I  doubt 
not  any  candid  person  must  be,  Avho  goes  under  favourable  con 
ditions  into  a  slave  country. 

I  spoke  to  Veronica  about  it,  and  she  shook  her  head.  "  I 
have  been  here  longer  than  you  have,  Molly — long  enough  to 
distinguish  betAveen  the  remorseless  Avorking  of  the  system  itself 
and  the  kindness  and  good  feeling  of  its  administrators.  Let  a 
master  do  Avhat  he  Avill  to  adjust  things  to  his  ideas  of  Christian 

12* 


274  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

duty  and  an  enlightened  sense  of  right,  sometime  or  other  he 
gets  caught  in  the  wheels  of  the  machinery.  I  have  seen 
enough  to  know  what  death,  and  debt,  and  division  of  property, 
and  laws  you  can't  prevent,  will  do  in  time.  Watch  any  set  of 
servants  for  some  years,  under  as  good  a  mistress  or  master  as 
you  can  find,  and  you  will  discover  miseries  which  come  upon 
them  as  inevitably  as  age  or  death — evils  you  can't  prevent — 
which  are  part  of  the  inevitable  working  of  the  institution. 
They  are  things  which  shock  your  Christianity — things  which 
are  "  nobody's  fault,"  perhaps,  and  which  you  could  not  help  if 
you  were  mistress  or  master.  I  don't  speak  of  positive  cruelty. 
There  is  some  things  that  it  sickens  you  to  think  of, — 
but  cruelty  is  not  a  distinguishing  feature  of  the  institution. 
It  is  kept  in  check  by  public  opinion,  and,  on  the  whole,  I  am 
much  more  astonished  that  there  is  so  little  of  it,  than  that  hor 
rid  stories  come  to  light  from  time  to  time.  I  don't  speak, 
either,  of  the  want  of  physical  comforts,  for,  on  the  whole,  it 
cannot  be  denied  that  our  slaves  are  quite  as  well  lodged, 
cared  for,  fed,  and  clothed,  as  any  other  laboring  population  in 
any  country  of  Christendom ;  and  I  call  them  in  general,  a 
happy  race,  for  being  brought  up  with  no  sense  of  responsibility 
(a  virtue  whose  converse  is  to  be  "  careful  and  troubled,")  they 
have  a  singular  facility  in  shaking  off  cares,  and  live  au  jour  le 
jour  with  easy  carelessness.  But,  Molly,  look  around  you.  There 
is  Mary  Louisa,  who  waits  upon  you.  She  has  been  three  times 
married,  and  each  time  off  the  place,  and  both  her  first  and 
second  husbands  have  been  sold  away  or  removed  by  their 
masters.  Cousin  Virginia' will  tell  you  that  Mary  Louisa  didn't 
mind  it.  Is  it  a  woman  degraded  into  not  minding  things  like 
that  whom  you  would  trust  to  teach  your  children  their  first 
notions  of  purity,  and  th«-ir  first  lispings  of  truth?  Look  at 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  275 

little  Tom  Tadpole  (Phil  called  him  that  on  account  of  his  queer 
shape),  his  father  struck  a  white  boy  over  the  head  with  a 
brick-bat,  in  Winchester,  and  the  law  said  he  must  be  hanged  or 
sold  out  of  the  state.  God  knows  where  he  is  now  amon<?  the 

o 

swamps  of  Louisiana.  And  so  on,  ad  infinitum.  I  could  not 
live  contentedly  and  be  responsible  to  God  for  the  well-being  and 
well-doing  of  these  people,  with  the  law  watching  me  jealously 
whenever  I  attempted  to  teach  them  what  all  Christians  ought 
to  believe  and  know,  and  hedging  my  interpretations  of  the 
Scriptures.  I  must  try  for  the  sake  of  my  own  comfort  to 
give  them  self-respect  and  self-reliance, — dangerous  qualities  to 
awaken,  I  am  told,  under  the  institution." 

"Tyrell  said  something  which  struck  me  the  other  day,"  I 
said.  "  He  observed  that  the  good  that  is  in  us,  must  act  upon 
the  evil  that  is  without  us." 

"Aye,  look  at  Tyrell,"  said  Veronica.  "He  has  become 
snarled  up  in  a  labyrinth  of  duties.  Duties  to  God,  duties  to 
man,  duties  to  law,  duties  to  society,  duties  to  his  country,  duties 
to  himself,  and  duties  to  his  servants,  till  he  does  not  know,  often 
times,  which  way  to  tread,  without  breaking  the  meshes  of  some 
duty  or  other." 

I  thought  again  of  Tyrell,  and  of  another  quotation  from 
Goethe,  he  had  made  to  me,  "Do  the  duty  that  lieth  nearest 
thee."  And  wondered  whether,  till  there  was  a  reasonable  hope 
of  deliverance  for  himself  and  them,  it  was  not  his  "nearest 
duty "  to  remain  faithful  to  his  post  as  the  master  of  his 
slaves,  and  make  the  best  of  the  institution  he  was  born 
under. 

As  I  was  standing  at  the  window  pondering  these  things,  there 
rode  up  to  the  house  a  tall  well-looking  man,  in  a  new,  glossy 
suit  of  black,  with  a  pair  of  saddle-bags. 


276  OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA. 

Presently  Mary  Louisa  came  up  stairs  and  handed  something 
to  Veronica,  saying,  "  Mas'  Parker  was  down  stak-s,  an'  begged 
the  favor  of  her  to  read  dat  paper." 

"What  is  it  Molly?"  said  Veronica,  turning  it  over  and 
over. 

It  was  written  in  a  school-hand,  full  of  flourishes,  not  particu 
larly  well  spelled  (but  then  its  author  might  have  studied  spelling 
out  of  Webster  or  Worcester). 

"  It's  an  acrostic,  Vera !"  said  I.  "  '  V.  Lomax,'  a  homage  to 
beauty  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Parker." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  paid  for  in  '  drinks,'  I  have  no  doubt,  and 
written,  by  the  Yankee  district  schoolmaster — some  ex-pedlar, 
who  came  down  here  from  the  valley  of  the  Connecticut  or  the 
mountains  of  Vermont,  to  teach  our  people.  I  have  known  Mr. 
Parker  of  old.  He  carne  here  last  year,  from  his  native  hills, 
on  the  fame  of  my  poor  looks,  to  '  ask  the  favor '  of  mo  to  be 
Mrs.  Parker." 

"  Let  us  hear  how  it  reads,"  said  I  taking  up  the  paper. 

"  V  cry  few  ladies  can  bear  to  be  acquainted 
L  ike  her  with  their  own  merits  when  they're  painted. 
O  h,  her  looks  so  majestic  and  handsome  and  bold, 
Make  her  eyes  seem  like  diamonds  all  set  in  pure  gold, 
A  nd  her  voice  is  so  extremely  mellorific — 
X  ceedingly  reminding  me  of  an  ancient  hieroglyphic." 

"  Well,  Veronica,"  said  I,  when  we  had  done  laughing,  "  don't 
you  mean  to  change  your  dress  and  go  down  ?" 

"  Veronica !  Veronica !"  said  cousin  Virginia,  at  our  door. 
"Here  is  Mr.  Parker,  down  stairs,  'begging  the  favor'  of  you 
to  come  down  and  entertain  him  in  the  drawing-room." 

"  I  am  not  coming  down  till  tea-time,"  said  Veronica. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  277 

"  But  I  can't  leave  him  there,  by  himself,"  said  cousin  Virginia, 
"  Molly,  you  come  down." 

Thus  ajured,  I  went  down  into  the  drawing-room,  and  was  intro 
duced  to  Mr.  Parker,  as  "  Miss  Mandeville,  from  England."  Mr. 
Parker  was  a  man  of  thirty -four  or  thirty-five  years  of  age,  who  had 
been  born  and  bred  on  a  spur  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  in  a  neighboring- 
county,  and  had  recently  succeeded  to  a  considerable  property, 
chiefly  in  negroes,  who  were  "hired"  (anylice,  let  out)  to  differ 
ent  families  in  the  county.  I  had  heard  him  talked  about,  for 
amongst  the  servants  upon  Mr.  Morrisson's  farm,  was  a  boy  who 
belonged  to  him,  and  whose  favorite  wish  was  "dat  Mas'r  'd  git 
a  wife  an'  take  him  home  to  live,"  and  when  he  said  this  he  would 
look  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes  at  Veronica.  I  gathered  he 
was  a  man  kind  to  his  servants,  and  though  still  choking  with 
the  remembrance  of  his  acrostic,  I  went  down  quite  kindly  dis 
posed  towards  Mr.  Parker. 

Mr.  Parker  looked  at  me  with  great  curiosity,  and  got  up 
from  his  chair,  and  moved  it  off  a  few  yards,  as  if  he  were  a 
little  afraid  of  me.  However,  I  seemed,  doubtless,  very  tame, 
and  took  out  my  worsted  work,  willing  to  be  as  agreeable  as  I 
might,  provided  I  could  find  interests  in  common  with  Mr. 
Parker. 

I  began — "  I  think  there  is  a  boy  of  yours,  Mr.  Parker,  among 
the  servants  on  this  place.  He  seems  very  fond  of  his  master." 

"  Oh ! I  reckon — yes !  I  seen  him  ploughing  corn  as  I 

rid  up,"  said  Mr.  Parker. 

"  Did  he  not  recognize  you  as  you  rode  past  ?" 

"  Hey,  Miss  ?"  said  Mr.  Parker. 

"  Did  you  speak  to  him,  I  mean  ?" 

"  Well,  now — I  reckon  !  May  I  beg  the  favor  of  you 
How  has  that  gotten  round  to  you  ?" 


2*78  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  Nothing  has  been  told  to  me,"  I  said  smiling,  "  I  thought 
it  very  likely  Joe  would  wish  to  see  his  master." 

"Well,  now,"  said  Mr.  Parker,  thoughtfully,  "it  was  that 
wench  Mary  Louisa,  I  reckon." 

Mr.  Parker's  prose  proving  as  incomprehensible  as  his  poetry? 
a  considerable  pause  ensued.  At  the  close  of  it  Mr.  Parker 
appeared  to  take  a  desperate  resolution. 

"Miss  Veronica  Lomax  ain't  going  to  do  me  the  favor  of 
coming  down  to  see  me,  I  reckon  ?" 

"  My  cousin  is  very  much  engaged,"  said  I.  "  She  begs  you 
will  excuse  her."  Mr.  Parker  cleared  his  throat,  and  edged  his 
chair  up  close  to  mine  in  a  confidential  manner. 

"  Have  you  much  preachin'  in  them  parts  you  come  from  ?" 
said  he. 

"  Preaching  !"  said  I. — "  In  England  ?  Yes,  there  is  divine 
service  twice  a  day  in  the  Cathedrals,  and  a  sermon  or  lecture 
somewhere  every  day,  in  almost  all  the  large  towns." 

Cousin  Virginia  had  just  come  into  the  room.  It  was  grow 
ing  dark.  "Joe  has  come  up  to  take  your  horse,"  said  she. 
"  Will  you  give  him  orders  what  to  do.  Your  room  is  getting 
ready,  Mr.  Parker." 

He  went  out  to  speak  to  Joe  on  the  back  porch,  and  cousin 
Virginia  began  to  be  merry.  "  My  dear,"  said  she,  "  he  means  to 
court  you  instead  of  Veronica.  Joe  told  him,  just  now,  that  there 
was  another  young  lady  staying  here,  and  he  reckoned  she  must 
be  rich,  for  she  had  twelve  silk  gowns.  Depend  upon  it  he  is 
thinking  of  you  on  Joe's  recommendation." 

"  He  is  the  oddest  man  I  ever  saw,"  said  I.  "  Does  he  take 
me  for  a  Hottentot  ?  He  has  just  asked  me  if  there  was  much 
preaching  where  I  came  from  ?" 

"  A  regular  courting  question,"  said  cousin  Virginia,  laughing, 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  279 

— "  a  polite  adaptation  of  his  conversation  to  a  topic  supposed 
to  be  of  interest  to  a  young  lady.  The  people  in  his  parts  never 
meet  except  at  church.  It  is  the  great  frolic  of  the  week  to  go 
there.  They  hitch  their  horses  under  the  trees  and  have  their 
talk,  and  do  their  flirting,  and  their  business  before  '  preaching.' 
I  reckon  he  thought  that  is  the  way  you  go  to  church  in  England, 
at  St.  Paul's." 

Mr.  Parker  continued  this  shy,  curious  style  of  conversation 
all  the  evening,  keeping  closely  at  my  side,  and  hardly  looking 
at  Veronica,  till  tired  of  worsted  work  and  the  bore  of  answer 
ing  his  questions,  I  got  up  and  went  to  bed,  wondering  when 
Max  and  Phil  were  likely  to  come  home  again.  Mr.  Morrisson 
had  gone  over  to  some  Mills,  some  four  or  five  miles  off,  about  a 
"  note,"  and  there  was  no  gentleman  in  the  house  but  Mr.  Parker. 
I  was  dreaming  of  "  hitching  "  Angelo  to  the  railing  round  the 
tomb  of  Edward  the  Confessor,  at  Westminster  Abbey,  when  I 
was  wakened  bv  a  loud  alarm. 


280  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

1  If  I  did  despise  the  cause  of  my  man  servant  or  of  my  maid  servant  when  they 
contended  with  me  ;  what  then  shall  I  do  when  God  riseth  up?  and  when  He  riseth 
what  shall  I  answer  Him?"— JOB  81 :  13  14. 

A  FUNERAL  in  Virginia  is  far  more  touching  than  any  cere 
mony  with  which  we  "  bury  our  dead  out  of  our  sight "  in  cities. 
There  are  no  Mr.  Omers  who  trade  on  grief,  to  interpose  profes 
sional  services  between  the  dead  and  the  living — who  if  the 
angel  of  Death  cut  himself  down  with  his  own'  scythe  would 
lament  over  the  calamity.  The  hand  of  affection  composes  the 
stiffening  limbs  and  lays  the  dead  form  in  the  coffin ;  friends  or 
dependents  (who  in  many  instances  are  friends)  carry  it  to  its 
last  resting-place,  and  the  dark  vault  of  death  is  closed  by  clods 
thrown  in  by  hands  that  have  extended  their  friendly  grasp  to 
the  hands  stiffened  on  the  cold  dead  breast,  and  not  by  hired 
strangers. 

Old  Mrs.  Williams  was  buried  by  her  kindred  in  the  Stone- 
henge  grave-yard.  No  mourners  had  been  summoned  by  her  son, 
but  a  few  friends  unbidden  assembled  on  the  Governor's  porch, 
and  when  the  coffin  made  its  appearance  (brought  over  in  the 
carriage  she  had  used  in  life)  they  testified  their  respect  by  walk 
ing  in  procession  to  the  grave-yard. 

The  funeral  ceremony  was  over ;  the  funeral  guests  had  gone, 
but  Max  remained  sitting  on  the  low  wall,  sheltered  by  a  guelder 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  281 

rose-tree,  unperceived  by  Uncle  Christopher,  who  was  smoothing 
and  patting  with  his  spade  the  sods  over  the  coffin.  The  servants 
of  Stonehenge,  and  even  those  from  the  estate  of  Mrs.  Williams, 
had  stood  round  the  enclosure  during  service,  and  Aunt  Saph 
lingered  after  the  others  had  gone. 

"It  ain't  no  sort  o'  use  ole  man,"  she  said,  "I  ain't  gwine  to 
try  to  reconcile  myself  if  it  must  come  to  that.  An'  Mas' 
Williams  had  that  man  in  the  house  las'  night,  an'  Si  he  said 
that  ar  was  what  they  was  talkin'  'bout." 

Uncle  Christopher  paused.  "  It  do  seems  mighty  hard  a  man 
can't  help,  and  save  for,  an'  provide  for  his  wife  and  chile'n." 

"  You  has  worked  for  'em  ole  man.  Your  mas'r  gin  you 
your  time ;  and  that  ar's  your  bag,  Mas'r  William  took  down  out 
of  his  mother's  closet  right  afore  our  eyes,  fore  old  missus  done 
deceased',  an'  she  done  tolled  him  it  war  your'n  old  man,  an' 
he  done  cussed  and  swore  at  her  about  it.  An'  now  he  says  all 
niggers  tell  a  pack  o'  lies,  and  that  you  never  paid  nothin'  to  ole 
missus  for  my  freedom.  Did  you  tell  Mas'  Jim  that  ar  ole  man  ? 
Wisht  I  was  dead  afore  he'd  sell  me  an'  my  chilens  to  that 
Gibson  ?  I  ain't  gwine  to  b'long  to  him,  ole  man — I  ain't  gwine 
to,"  she  exclaimed  passionately.  "  He's  the  worst  man  in  all  the 
country.  He  can't  hire  nor  buy  no  niggers.  Folks  won't  sell 
'em  to  him  sence  he  done  got  his  trial  for  that  whippin'  he  gin 
Isaac  that  he  died  from.  Folks  of  any  'count  dat  has  to  pocket 
their  servants  'd  rather  sell  'em  to  the  soul  drivers.  Couldn't 
do  no  wus  than  that  ar  gwino  to  pick  cotton.  Oh!  ole  man 
what  Mas'  Jim  say  when  you  tole  him?" 

"  Mas'  Jim  say  he'll  do  all  he  can,  Aunt  Saph,  but  de  Lord 
is  my  helper,  and  I  will  not  fear  what  flesh  can  do  unto  me," 
said  Uncle  Christopher,  uncovering  his  head.  "Here  is  the 
grave  of  my  ole  missus  who  is  in  heaven.  She  allers  said  '  put 


282  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

your  whole  trust  in  de  Lord,  Christopher' — an'  de  Lord  he's 
strong  enuff,  an'  de  Lord  he's  wise  enuff,  an'  de  Lord  he  has  love 
enuff,  an'  if  He  don't  help  us  when  we  cry  it  is  because  He 
hadn't  ought  to.  Jus  as  you  let  your  chilens  cry,  Aunt  Saph, 
when  day  wants  what'll  hurt  'em — you  ain't  gwine  gin  it  'em, 
ole  woman,  let  'em  cry  ever  so." 

Here  Max  came  forward  from  behind  his  guelder  rose-tree. 
"  Do  not  distress  yourself,"  he  said,  "  you  have  friends  who  will 
try  to  help  you.  Your  master  shall  not  sell  you  and  your 
children,  Saph ;  there  is  a  better  fate  in  store  for  you." 

"Mas'  William  done  told  me  that  he  bin  gwine  to  sell  us, 
Mas'  Max.  Wouldn't  mind  so  bad  gwine  into  a  good  family 
— but  I  ain't  gwine  to  live  with  white  trash — I  ain't  gwine  Avhar 
he  want  to  sell  me.  Oh !  Mas'  Max,  you'se  gwine  marry  Miss 
Vera  Lomax,  an'  settle  down  here — jus  you  buy  us,  honey.  I'se 
real  good  'bout  a  house,  and  I  knows  Miss  Vera  likes  me  right 
well.  Ole  missus  done  bring  me  up  herself,  and  I  knows  heaps 
o'  things  that  dese  yere  common  niggers  dtinno.  Jus  you  buy  us 
now  for  de  Lord's  sake,  young  mas'r." 

"Good  heavens — to  think  of  your  going  back  into  slavery 
when  your  husband  has  paid  more  than  two  thirds  of  the  price 
asked  for  you !  I  have  been  talking  with  the  Governor  and  Mr. 
Tyrell  about  your  case.  They  believe,  Uncle  Christopher,  that 
Mr.  Williams  can  be  brought  to  deal  fairly  by  you." 

Here  William  Williams  and  Gibson,  the  tavern-keeper,  who 
had  stood  his  trial  before  the  county  court  for  the  murder  of 
his  negro  slave,  and  been  acquitted  for  want  of  proof,  rode  up 
to  the  grave-yard.  Williams  was  neither  very  drunk  nor  very 
sober. 

"<5igh,  Aunt  Saph,"  said  lie  jocularly,  "here's  a  gentleman 
wishes  for  the  pleasure  of  being  introduced  to  you.  I  reckon 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  283 

you'll  find  yourself  at  home  in  the  big  kitchen  at  the  tavern. 
He  wants  to  fix  you  there  real  smart.  Come,  now,  I  reckon  if 
you  behave  yourself  that  you'll  like  to  go  and  live  with  him." 

Aunt  Saph  drew  back  nearer  to  Max,  "  No,  Mas'  William," 
she  said,  "  I'll  run  away  an'  git  put  in  jail  an'  be  sold  to  the 
negro  traders  afore  I'll  go  to  live  with  Mas'  Gibson." 

"  Mr.  Gibson,"  said  Max,  who  stood  by  with  the  thermometer 
rising  within  him,  "  the  title  is  so  fraudulent  by  which  you  claim 
these  negroes,  that  I  warn  you  they  have  friends  who  will  dispute 
your  possession." 

"  What  right,  sir,  have  you  to  come  here  and  interfere  with 

our  slaves,"  cried  out  Williams.  "  A  d d  Englishman  and 

abolitionist  ?" 

"  I  do  not  interfere  with  your  slaves,"  said  Max,  "  that  concerns 
yourselves.  And  this  slavery  you  are  hugging  to  your  hearts 
as  the  Spartan  robber  did  his  fox,  is  tearing  out  your  vitals.  It 
is  working  out  its  curse  among  you.  But  the  deeds  that  you 
have  done  to  this  poor  black  man  and  his  wife  will  not  be 
tolerated  by  any  institution.  You  have  no  right  to  charge  your 
villainies  on  slavery.  Slavery,  Mr.  Williams,  does  not  shield  a 
man  who  keeps  back  part  of  the  price  that  has  been  paid  him. 
Slavery  choes  not  sanction  men  in  substituting  a  fraudulent  agree 
ment  for  a  will  to  be  signed  by  your  infirm  and  aged  mother." 

"  How  dare  you !"  cried  Williams,  raising  his  whip,  and  grow 
ing  white  with  shame  and  rage. 

O  ~ 

"  Dare  !"  exclaimed  Max,  springing  over  the  low  wall,  and 
confronting  him.  "  Come  on,  sir ;  come  on — you  and  this 
man,  who  is  your  fit  associate.  Add  to  the  list  of  crimes  that 
now  disgrace  you  a  vulgar  brawl  over  your  mother's  coffin." 

Either  Will  Williams  was  shamed  by  this  mention  of  the  new- 
made  grave,  or  he  was  daunted  by  Max's  attitude.  He  turned 


284  OUR      COUSIN     VERONICA. 

his  horse's  head,  and  still  muttering  something  about  being  re 
venged  another  time,  and  "  abolitionism,"  rode  off,  and  left  Max 
master  of  the  field. 

Gibson,  as  he  turned  to  follow  him,  stooped  and  said  vindic 
tively  to  Aunt  Saph, 

"  Look  sharp  after  yourself  now,  for  I  have  bought  you." 

"  Bought  me ! — me  an  my  chilens  ?"  cried  Aunt  Saph.  "  You 
hasn't  done  signed  any  papers  for  us  yet — has  you  yet  ?  Has 
you  got  the  bill  of  sale  for  us,  mas'r  ?" 

Gibson  laughed  at  her  confusion  and  distress. 

"  I  have  bought  you,"  he  said,  "  and  in  good  part  paid  for  you 
— value  received.  Half  the  worth  of  you  has  been  taken  out  in 
liquor.  I  made  a  bargain  for  you,  and  your  master  and  your 
old  mistress  signed  a  paper,  and  I  have  trusted  your  master  on 
the  strength  of  it.  You  have  got  to  come  and  live  with  me,  old 
woman,  whether  you  like  it  or  not,  I  reckon." 

He  rode  after  Williams.  Aunt  Saph  watched  him  as  he 
went ;  and  then  throwing  her  apron  over  her  face,  she  sat  down 
upon  a  grave  and  rocked  herself  to  and  fro.  Uncle  Christopher, 
in  that  silence  which  is  the  eloquence  of  weakness — the  mute 
appeal  to  that  tribunal  before  which  all  hearts  are  open,  and 
from  whose  scrutiny  no  secrets  are  hid — went  on  ^vith  his 
employment,  and  Max,  turning  from  the  grave-yard,  walked  to 
the  house,  and  poured  forth  his  indignation  into  the  ears  of 
Tyrell. 

"I  have  thought  about  it  anxiously  ;  I  have  thought  of  little 
else  for  the  last  two  days,  and  agree  with  you  that  it  is  time  to 
act,  if  we  mean  to  act  at  all,"  said  Tyrell.  "  I  had  some  scruples 
at  first  about  following  the  guidance  of  my  indignation ;  but  I 
have  talked  with  my  father,  who  thinks  it  is  our  duty,  as  owners 
of  plantations,  interested  in  the  support  of  slavery,  to  put  down 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  285 

rascality  like  this,  which  throws  discredit  on  the  institu 
tion." 

"  The  more  the  system  is  discredited,  the  better,  I  should  say," 
said  Max. 

"  A  sentiment  capable  of  being  carried  out  into  the  most 
unchristian  action,  and  which  is  fast  becoming  at  the  North  a 
party  principle,"  said  Tyrell.  "  Turn  any  system  over — or  soci 
ety  itself — into  the  hands  of  the  unscrupulous,  and  you  set  going 
the  pendulum  of  revolution,  with  its  action  and  reaction ;  you 
will  have  the  '  twin  Dioscuri,  Oppression  and  Revenge,"  that 
Carlyle  talks  of,  stalking  about,  and  lighting  up  fires  that  never 
will  be  quenched  in  this  century." 

"  You  are  extremely  fond  of  generalization,"  returned  Max.  "I 
wish  you  would  suggest  what  we  can  do.  Here  are  Phil  and  I 
ready  to  carry  out  the  plan  that  we  talked  over  yesterday 
evening." 

"I  have  explained  it  to  my  father,"  Tyrell  said.  "He  is 
willing  to  lend  his  sanction  to  our  plan,  and  approves  of  it.  But 
I  hoped  there  would  have  been  more  time  to  mature  the  scheme, 
or  that  some  means  would  suggest  themselves  by  which  we 
might  avoid  it.  I  meant  to  have  had  another  interview  with 
Gibso*" 

"  I  had  that  just  now,"  said  Max,  "  and  he  was  bent  on  getting 
his  prey  into  his  clutches." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Tyrell ;  "  but  I  should  have  more  weight  with 
him  than  you  in  a  matter  of  that  nature.  The  best  and  the 
Avorst  of  us  are  extremely  sensitive  about  the  interference  of 
foreigners  with  slavery.  There  is  such  terrible  inflammation 
now  round  the  "  vexed  question,"  owing  to  unskillful  treatment, 
that  a  man  should  have  been  long  familiar  with  the  wound 
before  he  ventures  to  touch  it — and  then  he  must  deal  gently. 


286  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

That  which  we  freely  admit  to  be  evil  amongst  ourselves,  we 
warmly  defend  when  it  is  alluded  to  by  strangers.  That  is  the 
reason  why  I  discourage  your  enthusiasm.  A  little  indiscreet 
zeal  upon  your  part  might  draw  on  us  the  indignation  of  our 
neighbors,  whereas  it  is  my  object  so  to  act  as  to  enlist  on  our 
side  the  public  opinion  of  the  community," 

"I  want  no  prominent  share  in  anything  that  may  be  done," 
cried  Max.  " '  But  if  it  is  done,  when  it  is  done,  then  I  would  it 
were  done  quickly.'  I  am  ready  to  lend  my  aid  in  any  post  in 
which  you  will  employ  me." 

"  The  difficulty  is,"  said  Tyrell,  "  that The  truth  is,  that 

to  carry  out  the  plan  proposed,  we  want  in  hard  cash  three  hun 
dred  and  thirty  dollars,  which  we  agreed,  and  which  my  father 
agrees  with  me,  is  the  least  it  would  be  judicious  to  offer  Wil 
liams,  in  addition  to  the  four  hundred  and  sixty-nine  dollars 
which  he  received  from  Uncle  Christopher.  My  father  hopes  to 
frighten  him  into  acknowledging  that  he  has  received  that  sum. 
But  we  have  not  three  hundred  dollars  in  the  house,  and  in  this 
part  of  the  country  even  a  small  sum  of  money  is  not  to  be 
raised  in  an  hour." 

"  I  have  plenty  of  money  at  your  service,"  exclaimed  Max,  "  in 
English  gold.  I  am  the  proper  person  to  advance  it ;  ft>r  under 
every  contingency  but  one,  contemplated  in  the  will  of  Mr. 
Lomax,  Uncle  Christopher  becomes  my  slave,  and  it  is  my  place 
to  secure  the  safety  of  his  wife  and  family.  I  can  ride  over  to 
Clairmont  and  get  my  English  sovereigns.  I  have  put  my 
money  into  Molly's  keeping.  She  has  it  locked  up  in  her 
chamber." 

"  Come  into  the  house,"  said  Tyrell,  "  and  let  us  take  counsel 
with  my  father.  I  do  not  wish  to  take  any  step  in  a  business  of 
this  kind  without  his  advice  and  sanction.  Few  men  have  ever 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  28*7 

stood  higher  in  the  good  opinion  of  the  men  amongst  whom 
their  lot  Avas  cast  than  my  father." 

And  having  talked  over  the  new  features  in  the  case  with 
Governor  Tyrell,  who  approved  the  plan  proposed,  Max  mounted 
Black  Mike  and  galloped  to  Clairmont,  promising  to  "be  back  in 
time  for  the  old-fashioned  early  tea  hour,  adhered  to  in  the  family 
of  the  Governor. 


r 

«  & 

Q>)          Vs 

^ 


288  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Drunkenness  is  a  pair  of  spectacles  through  which  to  see  the  devil  and  all  his  works. 

OLD  PROVERB. 

LATER  in  that  afternoon,  Uncle  Christopher  might  have  been 
seen  hanging  round  the  kitchen  at  Mr.  Williams's,  waiting  to 
get  speech  of  his  wife,  who  was  busy  in-doors.  When  he  saw 
her  it  was  in  so  hurried  a  manner,  that  she  had  no  time  to  ask 
the  questions  he  was  cautioned  to  avoid  answering.  He  simply 
gave  her  a  message  from  "  Mas'  Jim,"  to  the  effect  that  she  was 
to  keep  her  children  up  and  dressed  till  after  nine  o'clock,  and 
have  a  small  bundle  of  their  clothes  and  her  own  made  up,  in 
case  any  one  should  call  for  them. 

Lyndgate,  an  old  poet  in  Dan  Chaucer's  day,  solves  the  mys 
tery  of  races,  white  and  black,  by  telling  us,  that  some  years 
after  the  expulsion  from  Paradise  an  angel  came  down  to  visit 
Eve,  who,  having  a  large  family  of  children,  was  a  little  behind 
hand  in  getting  them  ready  for  company.  When  Eve  beheld 
the  angel  at  her  gate,  she  thrust  the  unwashed  children  into  a 
dirty  barrel,  told  them  to  keep  quiet,  and  gathering  around  her 
the  newly  washed,  prepared  to  receive  her  visitor. 

"  Eve,"  said  the  angel,  after  caressing  the  group,  "  is  this  alj^ 
your  little  family  ?" 

"All,"  replied  Eve,  woman-like,  putting  the  best  foot  fore 
most,  for  the  sake  of  appearances,  and  not  cured  of  her  old, 
unhappy  propensity. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  289 

"  Nay,"  answered  the  angel,  as  a  dirty  little  face  peered  over 
the  edge  of  the  meal-barrel,  "and  those  children  hidden  away 
unwashed  you  shall  never  be  able  to  wash  white  any  more." 

Thus  Aunt  Saph,  being  a  daughter  of  Eve,  inherited  her 
mother's  wish  to  have  her  children  in  their  best  clothes  before 
company. 

The  curiosity  of  Eve  beset  her  for  the  remainder  of  that  eve 
ning.  It  was  getting  dark  as  her  husband  gave  her  the  message 
from  cousin  Tyrell,  and  in  the  multitude  of  her  distresses,  this 
poor  daughter  of  the  boy  and  girl  hidden  by  our  universal 
mother  in  the  dirty  meal-tub,  thought  more  of  the  mystery  than 
she  did  of  her  cares. 

The  other  sentiment  inherited  from  Eve  awoke,  however, 
about  eight  o'clock,  when  she  began  to  get  impatient  to  get  her 
eldest  boy,  young  'Siah,  washed  and  dressed  with  his  best  clothes 
on,  ready  for  the  occasion.  But  'Siah  was  in  the  dining-room, 
where  his  master  for  three  hours  had  kept  him  standing,  till  the 
child  Avas  nearly  ready  to  drop  down  from  sleep  and  weariness. 
Mr.  Williams  had  a  black  bottle  of  whisky  on  the  fire-place, 
and  Avas  mixing  glass  after  glass  of  toddy  for  himself — tossing 
the  heel-taps  into  'Siah's  face,  cursing  him  in  the  intervals  of  his 
drink,  throwing  the  ends  of  his  cigars  at  him,  and  once  a  lighted 
chunk  of  Avood — for  the  boy  Avas  alone  with  his  drunken  master, 
and  the  man  had  nothing  else  to  vent  his  passions  on.  The 
child  had  to  take  alike  his  anger  and  his  ribald  jocularity. 
Better  had  it  been  for  that  man  to  be  cast  into  the  sea,  Avith  a 
millstone  round  his  neck,  than  to  reckon  with  God  for  the  les 
sons  given  to  that  young,  immortal  soul. 

Aunt  Saph  came  once  or  twice  into  the  parlor,  and  called 
the  boy,  but  their  master,  Avith  an  oath,  bade  her  begone,  and 
she  dared  not,  for  the  child's  sake,  anger  him.  Her  other  little 

13 


290  OUB      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

fellow  was  a  child  of  three  years'  old.  She  had  dressed  him, 
and  put  him  in  a  soil  of  pen  or  cage,  where  she  imprisoned  him, 
and  let  him  scream  unnoticed  while  she  went  about  her  daily 
labor.  She  was  stirring  round  the  kitchen,  anxious  to  leave  as 
little  undone  of  the  usual  household  work  as  possible,  when  sud 
den  shrieks  startled  her,  proceeding  from  the  dining  parlor. 
She  knew  it  was  Si's  voice,  and  ran  towards  the  sitting-room — 

'  O 

not  to  interpose  between  the  boy  and  his  intoxicated  master,  but 
at  least  to  be  at  hand  to  see  what  was  taking  place ;  to  watch  in 
the  entiy,  and  to  hear  the  blows ;  to  have  the  mother's  heart 
within  her  bleed,  while  as  her  own  child's  fellow-slave,  she  pas 
sively  stood  by,  "  with  no  help  in  her  hand,"  whatever  might  be 
done  to  him.  But  as  she  got  into  the  entry,  which  was  dark, 
she  ran  against  the  Governor,  Max  and  cousin  Tyrell. 

A  carriage  that  she  had  not  heard  had  driven  up,  and  as  they 
met  thus  in  the  darkness,  the  door  of  the  dining-room  was  sud 
denly  flung  open,  and  Si  ran  out  screaming  into  the  passage, 
while  his  master  rushed  after  him,  flourishing  a  half-burnt 
hickory  stick  which  he  had  snatched  up  from  the  fire.  The 
glow  of  light  proceeding  from  the  open  door  into  the  corridor- 
revealed  the  group  to  him.  Will  Williams,  drunk  as  he  was, 
stopped  short,  and  threw  his  brand  back  on  the  hearth,  sending 
a  >h<nver  of  sparks  into  the  dark,  and  uttering  a  curse  against 
the  boy  who  had  eluded  him. 

"I  have  not  touched  the  little  rascal,"  he  exclaimed,  as  if 
admitting  that  some  apology  for  the  scene  was  needed  by  the 
Tyrells.  "  He  stood  there,  first  on  one  leg,  then  on  the  other, 
dropping  asleep,  till  he  gave  way  at  the  knees.  I  was  just  going 
to  teach  him  that  it  is  his  business  to  keep  awake.  What  can  I 
do  for  you,  Governor  f 

"  A  little  business,  Mr.  Williams,  said  Governor  Tyrell,  who 


OUR      COUSIK      VERONICA.  291 

entered,  accompanied  by  Max,  while  cousin  Tyrell  said  a  few 
words  to  Aunt  Saph,  Avho  was  receiving  her  son  with  no  particu 
lar  demonstrations  of  tenderness,  for  negro  parents  are  seldom 
very  gentle  Avith  their  children. 

"  Take  a  seat,  gentlemen.  Have  a  drink  ?"  said  Williams, 
who  was  in  a  hospitable  mood,  having  drank  alone  till  he  was 
weary  of  his  own  company. 

Governor  Tyrell  picked  up  a  chair  which  had  been  overturned 
in  the  scuffle  between  the  master  and  the  boy,  and  sat  down  by 
the  table.  Max  remained  standing  by  the  door. 

"  Mr.  Wilfiams,"  said  the  Governor,  proceeding  on  the  prin 
ciple  that  there  are  some  men  a  great  deal  better  for  being 
knocked  down  at  once,  "  it  is  my  opinion  that  you  have  proved 
yourself  of  late  a  great  rascal." 

"  Don't  know  as  I  think  so,  Governor,"  said  Williams,  not  in 
the  humor  to  be  offended  by  words,  and  the  Governor's  manner  was 
bland  ;  "  but  reckon  I  am  something  of  a  sharp  man,  Governor." 

"  So  sharp,  Mr.  Williams,  that  you  have  been  overreaching 
yourself,  of  late,  or,  as  the  negroes  would  tell  you,  '  playing  fool 
for  cunning.'  I  think  I  have  gotten  legal  evidence — white 
evidence — which  will  win  our  case  if  we  take  it  into  court ;  evi 
dence  to  prove  that  n  6100  note  which  can  be  identified  as 
having  been  taken  from  a  wallet  given  you  by  Mr.  Lomax's 
negro  man,  Christopher,  was  changed  by  you  at  the  tavern  at 
Fighterstown." 

"  Come  on,  then.  Take  it  into  court ;  and  what  will  you  do 
then  ? — Who  prosecutes  ?"  said  Williams,  insolently. 

"  I  am  the  prosecutor,  Sir ,"  began  Max,  but  Governor 

Tyrell  stopped  him. 

"  A  slave  cannot  hold  property  by  law,  therefore,  the  money 
paid  by  Uncle  Christopher  to  your  mother,  and  received  by  you," 


292  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

the  Governor  said,  "  belongs,  by  legal  right  to  the  estate  of  Mr. 
Lomax.  Mr.  Williams,  we  are  unwilling  to  have  any  dispute 
with  you.  We  will  not  reclaim  that  money,  nor  by  exposing 
your  other  frauds  hold  you  up  to  the  contempt  of  the  commu 
nity,  if  you  will  sell  us  those  negroes  (taking  the  money  you 
received  from  Christopher  in  part  payment)  for  eight  hundred 
dollars.  This  is  two  hundred  dollars  more  than  Mr.  Gibson  offers 
you." 

"  I  tell  you  I  ain't  going  to  sell  you  those  niggers,"  Williams 
said.  "  Gibson  has  got  me  in  his  power.  Two  years  before  he 
got  that  paper  signed  he  got  verbal  promise  from  mte,  pledging 
me  to  sell  them  to  him  when  they  came  into  my  hands  for  six 
hundred  dollars.  He'd  levy  an  attachment  on  them  for  debt 
even  if  he  had  no  other  claim  upon  them.  lie's  advanced  me 
money  upon  those  negroes.  I  ain't  going  to  do  that  thing,  I 
tell  you,  Governor.  I  ain't  going  to,  nohow.  Gibson's  got  me 
in  his  power." 

"  How  much  money  has  he  advanced  upon  his  bargain  ?"  said 
Max,  impatiently. 

"  Well,  now,  there's  my  bill  down  at  his  place — two  hundred 
dollars,  more  or  less,  in  cash,  I  reckon." 

"  And  if  we  pay  you  three  hundred  and  thirty  one  dollars  down, 
that  is  £GG,  making  eight  hundred  dollars,  in  all,  as  the  price  of 
this  woman  and  her  children,"  said  Max,  "  will  you  pay  Gibson 
what  you  owe  him  and  so  be  off  that  bargain  ?" 

"  I  reckon  he  wouldn't  be  off  his  part  of  it,"  Will  Williams  said. 
"  It's  less  by  one  third  than  the  traders  would  give  him  for  that 
lot.  The  children  are  mighty  likely.  Cotton  is  rising  ev«ry 
day,  and  the  prices  of  negroes  running  high.  He'll  bring  an 
attachment  on  those  negroes — he  said  he  would — and  have  them, 
anyhow  you  could  fix  it,  Governor." 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  293 

We  will  take  care  of  that,"  cried  Max.  "  They  will  be  sent 
out  of  Virginia.  Eight  hundred  dollars  which  we  offer  you  is 
more  than  six.  Think  of  it,  Mr.  Williams.  If  you  don't,  you 
will  be  prosecuted  about  that  money  you  received  from  Uncle 
Christopher ;  Miss  Lomax  and  I  are  determined  on  it.  Which 
ever  is  heir  to  the  old  gentleman's  estate  will  follow  up  this 
matter." 

"I  reckon,  if  all  accounts  be  true,  that  I'll  come  in  for  Oat- 
lands  yet,"  said  Williams,  with  a  laugh.  "  They  say  it's  more 
than  likely  you  will  get  the  sack,  and  that  she'll  marry  Jim 
Tyrell."  , 

"  Now  Mr.  Williams,  make  haste  with  your  decision.  We 
Avant  your  answer  at  once,"  the  Governor  said,  emptying  a  roll  of 
glittering  English  gold  upon  the  table.  "  This  purchase,  to  be 
of  any  use  to  us,  must  be  made  to  night,  and  we  shall  carry 
the  negroes  out  of  the  way  of  Gibson's  claim,  or  sherifF s  writs 
before  morning.  Jake  Gibson  may  content  himself  with  his 
money,  not  his  pounds  of  human  flesh.  No  gentleman  ought  to 
sell  that  fellow  negroes,  and  none  of  us  would  do  so  but  yourself, 
in  this  county.  Make  up  your  mind,  sir,  for  the  time  is  brief. 
Will  you  give  me  a  bill  of  sale,  and  take  the  money  ?" 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  Governor,  there'll  ,be  the  devil  to  pay 
when  Gibson  knows  of  it.  He  wanted  that  woman  for  his 
cook.  He  finds  it  mighty  hard  to  hire  one  or  buy  one.  I'm 
bound  to  sell  her  to  him,  that's  a  fact.  Suppose  you  let  her  go 
and  take  the  children  ?" 

"  We  must  have  all  or  none,"  the  Governor  replied.  "  Now, 
Mr.  Williams,  my  carriage  is  ready  at  the  door  to  take  them  oft', 
— will  you  sign  a  bill  of  sale  ?  This  is  my  last  oft'er.  Three 
hundred  and  thirty-one  dollars,  down,  and  the  money  in  that 
wallet  vou  received,  of  which  you  changed  a  hundred  dollar 


294  OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA. 

note,  in  Fighterstown.  Eight  hundred  dollars  in  all,  a  very 
sufficient  price  for  those  negroes.  Two  hundred  more  than  Mr. 
Gibson  offers  you." 

"  I  am  going  to  l>e  beggared  by  that  man,"  said  Williams, 
who  was  getting  into  the  querulous  stage  of  his  intoxication. 
"  I  am  a  miserable  man,  Governor  Tyrell.  I  was  brought  up 
by  one  of  the  best  of  mothers,  and  led  to  expect  a  fine  estate, 
and  my  uncle  Lomax  has  appointed  other  heirs  to  his  property. 
I  am  an  ill  used  man,  and  people  come  over  to  my  house  to 
triumph  over  me  and  to  insult  me,  by  heaven  !  and  to  force  me 
to  give  up  my  property,  and  to  get  mo  into  an  infernal  fix  with 
a  man  who  is  the  hardest  creditor  and  hardest  master  in  the 
State,  and  who  has  me  in  his  power.  No  words  can  tell  you, 
Governor  Tyrell,  what  he  has  been  to  me  the  last  two  years.  He's 
tortured  me,  sir,  as  bad  as  ever  he  did  that  negro  of  his,  Isaac, 
that  he  was  tried  for.  I'm  a  miserable — miserable  scoundrel — 
that's  what  I  feel  myself,  and  he  has  driven  me  to  this — and  now 
you  threaten  me  with  prosecution  for  a  fraud,  and  come  here 
to  triumph  over  me.  I  wish  I  was  dead — that's  what  I  do. 
Governor,"  and  Mr.  "Williams  took  another  glass  of  whisky  toddy. 

"Deliver  yourself  out  of  that  man's  power,  sir,  and  be  a  man. 
Pay  him  his  money  and  be  done  with  him.  Here  it  is.  Are 
the  negroes  mine  as  executor  of  the  will  of  Mr.  Lomax,  and  his 
agent  for  the  Oaklands  property  ?" 

"Mr.  Williams,"  said  cousin  Tyrell,  looking  in  suddenly, 
"  in  three  hours  it  will  be  daylight,  in  another  half  hour  it  will 
bo  too  late  to  start.  Yes  or  no  ?  Give  us  your  answer." 

Williams  had  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  coin.  It  seemed  a  great 
sum  of  money  to  give  up. 

"  Are  the  negroes  going  to  belong  to  the  old  man's  estate  ?" 
he  said  with  a  cunning  look. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  295 

"  Yes,"  exclaimed  Max.  "  Now  there !  is  it  all  right  ?  Are 
they  ours,  Mr.  Williams  ?" 

"Well  I  suppose  so,"  said  Williams.  "Count  the  money. 
Oh !  Lord  I  feel  so  sick,"  he  continued,  throwing-  himself 
groaning  on  the  lounge.  "  You  had  better  run  the  lot  right  off 
if  you  don't  want  Gibson  to  get  hold  of  them.  Oh  !  Lord — he'll 
come  here  to-morrow  and  threaten  me,  but  I  shall  tell  him  they 
are  oft'.  I  shall  have  mania  potu  before  long.  I  wish  I  had. 
I  wish  I  was  dead.  There  ain't  a  more  miserable  sinner,  1  reckon, 
this  side  of  judgment." 

"  Where  do  you  keep  any  ink,  Mr.  Williams  ?"  said  the 
Governor,  as  Max  and  Tyrell  searched  around  the  room. 

"  Oh  !  Lord  I  don't  know.  I  flung  something  at  that  cursed 
boy  to  make  him  wake.  I  reckon  it  was  the  ink-bot 
tle." 

Sure  enough  in  one  corner  of  the  room  an  ink-bottle  lay 
broken,  while  the  ink  was  dripping  on  the  wainscoat  or  had 
soaked  into  the  floor. 

"Is  this  all  the  ink  you  have  in  the  house,  Mr.  Williams? 
How  shall  we  sign  the  bill  of  sale  ?"  said  Cousin  Tyrell. 

"  Oh  !  Lord — Lord  !  come  to-morrow,  and  take  the  niggers  oft' 
to-night.  I  am  too  sick  to  attend  to  any  more  business.  Help 
yourself  to  a  drink,  Governor." 

"  I  shall  carry  off  this  money  for  to-night,"  Governor  Tyrell 
said.  "  I  cannot  leave  this  drunken  man  in  charge  of  all  this 
money,  but  you,  my  son,  and  Captain  Max  had  better  be  oft'. 
You  have  no  time  to  lose.  Even  if  Gibson  should  resign  his 
claim,  the  creditors  are  very  likely  to  oppose  the  sale  of  any 
of  his  negroes,  unless  by  a  sheriff's  order.  When  you  get  to 
Washington  take  care  my  horses  have  a  three  days'  rest,  and 
drive  them  slowly  home." 


290  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Williams  was  already  in  a  drunken  sleep.  The  Governor  fol 
lowed  Max  and  Tyrell  to  the  door. 

Phil  Ormsby,  always  ready  to  perform  a  driving  feat,  was 
holding  the  reins  and  hiding  himself  from  observation.  Sap- 
phira  and  her  children,  and  a  large,  awkward  bundle  of  their 
effects,  were  thrust  into  the  body  of  the  carriage.  Uncle  Chris 
topher  closed  the  door  with  a  quick  slam  and  jumped  up  beside 
"  Mas'  Phil."  Tyrell  and  Max  mounted  their  horses,  and  the 
Governor  returned  to  gather  up  the  pile  of  money  in  the  dining 
parlor,  where  Williams  in  his  drunken  sleep  had  rolled  from 
the  lounge  on  to  the  floor. 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  297 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

To  have  pursuit  of  honourable  deed 
There  is  I  know  not  what  great  difference, 
Between  the  vulgar  and  the  noble  seed, 
Which  unto  things  of  valarous  pretence 
Seems  to  IJe  born  by  native  influence, 
As  feats  of  armes  and  love  to  entertaine, 
But  chiefly  skill  to  ride  seems  a  science 
Proper  to  gentle  blood. 

SPKNSER  :  Faerie  Queene. 

THUS  arranged,  the  carriage  and  its  attendants  proceeded  on 
its  way  into  the  darkness.  Phil  and  the  horses  seeming  by 
instinct  to  avoid  stumps,  rocks,  and  mud-holes.  After  going 
some  way  down  the  road  Phil  checked  his  horses,  and  putting 
his  head  out  for  the  first  time,  asked  Tyrell  Avhether  he  meant 
to  cross  the  river  by  the  ferry  or  the  ford  ? 

"  By  the  ford  if  we  can  cross  it,"  Tyrell  replied  ;  "  I  was  appre 
hensive  lest  the  recent  rains  had  raised  the  waters  and  went  to 
look  at  it  when  our  relay  of  horses  crossed  the  ferry  this  after 
noon.  The  river  is  full  and  rising,  but  not  '  out  of  ride,'  as 
several  persons  have  crossed  it  since  the  morning." 

As  they  approached  the  place,  where  at  the  junction  of  the 
river  road  and  turnpike  stood  the  tavern  by  the  ferry,  they  saw 
lights  gleaming  from  the  bar-room,  and  Tyrell  pointing  them  out 
to  Phil,  asked  if  it  seemed  worth  while  to  draw  the  attention 
of  Jake  Oibson,  the  master  of  the  inn,  by  rousing  up  his  ferry- 

13* 


298  O  U  K     COUSIN      V  E  R  O  N  I  C  A  . 

man,  and  whether  they  had  not  better  try  the  ford,  which  was  a 
couple  of  hundred  yards  further  from  the  inn,  and  higher  up  the 
river. 

"  Try  it  yourself,"  said  Phil.  "  If  your  father's  horses  will  pull 
true  I  can  take  them  across  with  the  water  over  their  backs,  I 
reckon.  But  you  can't  swim  a  «arriage  over  the  river." 

"  Come  on  then,  Phil.      I'll  pilot  you  across,"  said  Tyrol  1. 

They  passed  the  tavern  apparently  unnoticed,  driving  noise 
lessly  upon  the  grass  at  the  road-side,  and  having  reached  the 
ford  Phil  drew  up  on  the  river's  bank,  at  a  spot  that  was 
sheltered  from  observation  from  the  inn,  and  waited  the  result 
of  the  experiment  of  Tyrell. 

As  a  resident  of  the  neighborhood  he  knew  the  ford  well. 
His  gallant  grey  was  well  under  his  command,  but  nevertheless 
snorted  and  eyed  the  ford  suspiciously  as  he  was  urged  onward 
by  his  master's  spur  into  the  dark  mass  of  rapid  waters.  Tyrell 
sat  erect  upon  his  horse,  with  his  feet  thrust  out  in  the  stirrups 
to  their  natural  position,  for  he  knew  that  there  was  danger  in 
what  he  intended  to  attempt,  and  that  it  was  necessary  to  keep 
a  firm  seat  in  the  saddle.  Most  of  the  gentlemen  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  when  crossing  fords,  were  in  the  habit  of  keeping  their 
feet  dry,  by  drawing  them  out  of  their  stirrups  and  stretching 
them  out  in  front,  or  crooking  them  up  behind,  and  some  of  the 
most  venturesome  would  draw  their  legs  up  under  thorn  and  sit 
cross-legged,  or  tailor-fashion  in  the  saddle,  till  it  was  a  wonder 
how  they  could  preserve  their  equilibrium.  But  Tyrell  knew  it 
was  no  time  for  such  experiments,  and  preferred  the  position 
which  would  give  him  the  greatest  command  over  his  horse, 
even  at  the  cost  of  a  thorough  wetting.  As  at  each  step  the 
flood  rose  high  around  him,  he  rose  up  in  the  saddle,  and  fixing 
his  gaze  earnestly  upon  his  horse's  head,  just  visible  to  Max  in 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  299 

the  moonlight,  gathered  his  reins  in  a  firmer  grasp,  and  kept 
his  horse  diagonally  across  the  current,  his  head  well  up  the 
stream,  lie  reached  the  middle  of  the  river,  and  the  way 
before  him  was  probably  not  worse  than  that  behind.  The 
water  became  so  deep  that  the  back  of  the  horse  was  barely 
visible,  and  the  party  on  the  bank  wontlered  how  the  brave 
animal  could  keep  his  footing.  The  current  was  strong,  as 
could  be  seen  by  the  piling  up — as  it  were — of  the  muddy  water 
against  the  chest  of  the  horse,  with  almost  force  sufficient,  as  it 
seemed,  to  have  swept  horse  and  rider  down  the  stream  entirely 
at  its  mercy.  Thus  they  proceeded  silently  and  slowly  onward, 
the  action  of  the  horse  entirely  concealed  from  those  on  land, 
and  as  less  and  less  of  his  neck  remained  visible  Max  expected 
every  moment  to  see  him  lose  his  foot-hold  and  float  down 
stream.  But  now  the  worst  was  passed,  the  horse's  back  rose, 
as  it  were,  slowly  out  of  the  water,  the  rider  relaxed  his  attitude 
of  fixed  attention,  reached  forward  and  patted  his  horse's  neck, 
Uncle  Christopher  uttered  an  ejaculation  of  pious  thank 
fulness,  and  Max  and  Philip  Ormsby  breathed  more  freely,  as  the 
moonlight  shone  upon  the  dripping  sides  of  the  brave  animal 
who  had  so  nobly  borne  himself.  He  acknowledged  his  master's 
caress  with  a  neigh  and  toss  of  his  head,  and  Tyrell  waved  his 
hand  to  the  party  left  behind  as  he  issued  from  the  ford  splash 
ing  the  water  right  and  left  around  him  like  a  shower  of  bright 
sparkles  in  the  moonlight.  Max  thought  of  William  of  Delo- 
raine's  midnight  ride,  and  his  passage  of  the  mountain  torrent, 
and  ivpeated  aloud : 

"  The  warrior's  very  plume  I  say 

Was  draggled  by  the  dashing  spray, 

Yt-t  through  good  heart  and  our  Ladye's  grace 

At  length  lie  gained  the  landing  place." 


300  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Phil  drew  a  long  breath  and  said,  "  lie  has  had  a  deep  ride." 

"  Do  you  intend  to  attempt  it  ?"  asked  Max. 

"  Yes,  I  reckon  so,"  said  Phil.  "  There  is  certainly  some 
danger  in  it.  Still  I  have  crossed  here  with  a  carriage  when 
the  river  was  certainly  as  high,  if  not  higher  than  it  is  now. 
By  keeping  some  twenty  yards  higher  up  the  stream  than  where 
he  crossed,  I  reckon  we  shall  find  the  water  not  so  deep  by  six 
inches;  these  horses  are  half  a  hand  higher  than  his,  and  with 
a  firm  hand  and  a  cool  head  I  reckon  we  may  venture  through.'' 

"  'Tain't  allers  the  highes'  horse,  Mas'  Phil,"  said  Uncle  Chri- 
topher,  "  dat  is  de  safes'  in  de  water.  I'd  liefer  hab  some  on  em 
with  de  ribber  runnin'  over  dere  backs  'mos',  dan  some  other 
when  it  didn't  reach  the  shoulder.  Reckon  though  dese  horses 
got  good  sperrit ;  dey  ain't  gwine  to  jibe,  Mas'  Phil,  'long  as  dey 
feel  de  bottom  under  'em." 

"  But,"  exclaimed  Max,  "  a  horse  can  have  no  chance  to  swim 
in  harness,  and  if  these  should  lose  their  footing,  it  would  be  a 
desperate  case,  Phil,  for  your  party." 

"  Better  fall  into  de  hands  ob  de  Lord  dan  into  de  hands  of 
man,  Mas'  Max,  'specially  when  dat  man  Mas'  Gibson,"  said 
Christopher,  raising  his  hat  reverently. 

"  There  is  little  or  no  drift-wood  running,"  said  Philip,  who 
had  been  looking  round  him.  "  I  believe  I  will  try  it ;"  and 
alighting,  he  threw  Christopher  the  reins,  while  he  commenced 
loosening  the  bearing-reins  and  martingales,  and  giving  a  critical 
examination  to  the  state  of  the  harness. 

"Mas'  Phil  he  done  know  what  him  'bout,"  said  Uncle 
Christopher  to  Max,  and  turning  to  Aunt  Saph,  made  her  put  hei 
feet  up  on  the  the  seat  of  the  carriage. 

"  Now  then,  Captain,"  said  Phil  Ormsby,  resuming  his  place 
and  pointing  across  the  water ;  "  you  take  notice  of  the  remains 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  301 

of  the  old  fish  dam  by  that  ripple  running  almost  all  the  way 
over,  we  will  keep  immediately  above  that,  and  we  shall  have 
shallower  water,  I  reckon,  and  a  smoother  bottom." 

"  All  right,"  said  Max ;  and  the  horses  responding  to  Phil's 
admonition,  boldly  entered  the  water,  encouraged  by  his  voice, 
and  the  perilous  passage  was  begun. 

Max  kept  as  close  to  the  carriage  as  he  could,  so  as  to  be  able 
to  render  assistance  in  case  it  should  be  necessary,  and  watched 
attentively  and  admiringly  the  coolness  and  tact  which  Phil  dis 
played  in  managing  and  directing  his  horses.  No  one  spoke  a 
word,  and  a  half-smothered  exclamation  from  Aunt  Saph  as  the 
carriage  jolted  over  the  rough  stones  at  the  bottom  of  the  river, 
was  the  only  sound  which  broke  upon  the  ear,  save  the  dull 
roaring  of  the  waters,  and  the  splash  of  the  horses.  It  was  cer 
tainly  an  undertaking  of  great  danger  to  attempt  to  cross  the 
current,  with  a  carriage  loaded  to  its  utmost  capacity  ;  but  there 
were  stout  hearts  and  cool  heads  to  guide  the  enterprise.  As 
Phil  supposed,  the  place  that  he  selected  for  crossing  was  not  so 
deep  by  six  inches  as  that  where  Tyrell  had  crossed  the  ford ; 
and  in  the  slight  eddy  caused  by  the  fish-dam,  the  water  was 
smoother  and  the  current  less  violent.  They  had  reached  the 
middle  of  the  river,  and  the  horses  were  tugging  patiently  at 
their  heavy  load,  while  the  whole  party  began  to  breathe  more 
freely,  when  Max's  attention  was  attracted  by  a  noise  of  shouting 
on  the  left  bank  of  the  river.  He  stopped — listened  more  atten 
tively — and  assuring  himself  that  something  unusual  was  going 
on,  called  out  to  Philip,  who  checked  his  horses,  and  taking  a 
rapid  glance  behind  him,  exclaimed — 

"  By  the  gods,  it's  that  party  at  the  tavern,  and  I  hear  Gib 
son's  voice  above  all  the  rest.  See,  they  are  making  for  the 
boat ;  they  have  noticed  us,  and  perhaps  have  got  wind  of  what 


302  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

we  are  doing,  and  they  arc  going  to  try  to  cross  the  river  and 
intercept  us.  They  can  do  it  too ;  for  with  this  current  running, 
they  can  put  the  boat  across  in  five  minutes.  Well,  Aunt  Saph, 
what  do  you  say  to  getting  into  Gibson's  clutches  after  all  ?  But 
you  shan't  if  I  can  prevent  his  having  you." 

"  But  what's  to  be  done  ?"  said  Max,  "  as  you  say  they  can 
get  across  the  river  before  us ;  and  even  if  they  did  not,  they 
will  raise  a  hue  and  cry  after  us,  and  it  will  not  be  long  before 
we  are  overtaken.  Blood  might  be  spilled,  and  the  conse 
quences  would  become  far  more  serious  than  we  anticipated." 

"  There  is  but  one  thing  to  be  done,"  said  Phil,  "  and  that  is 
dangerous ;  but  if  you  will  undertake  it,  I  think  we  can  keep 
Mr.  Gibson  and  his  party  on  the  other  side  of  the  river." 

"  What  is  it  ?"  replied  Max.  "  I'll  do  any  thing  to  accom 
plish  our  object." 

"  You  must  swim  your  horse  down  the  river,  and  cut  the  rope 
on  which  the  boat  works — they  will  then  be  unable  to  cross; 
and  you  have  no  time  to  lose,  for  they  are  about  starting.  Have 
you  a  knife  long  enough  to  cut  a  small-sized  cable  ?" 

"  No — mine  is  only  a  penknife." 

"  Well,  here,  take  Uncle  Christopher's — ho  has  a  jack-knife,  I 
am  sure.  Lend  us  your  knife,  old  man ;"  and  reaching  out, 
Max  took  the  knife  from  the  old  nejjro,  and  turned  his  horse's 

O         f 

head  down  the  stream  without  another  word — Phil  calling  out 
after  him, 

"  If  you  can  get  to  the  other  shore,  do  -so ;  but  if  you  can't, 
make  the  best  of  your  way  back  to  Clairmont ;  we  can  take  care 
of  ourselves,  if  we  can  only  keep  the  river  between  us  and  Gib 
son." 

Max  was  not  a  man  easily  frightened,  and  having  undertaken 
an  enterprise  lie  did  not  1ft  himself  see  the  dangers  of  it,  except  to 


OUH     COUSIN     VERONICA.  303 

guard  against  and  overcome  them.  There  was  little  time  now 
for  reflection,  for  the  horse  swimming  in  the  direction  of  the 
current,  was  carried  along  with  great  rapidity,  and  all  the  rider's 
watchfulness  and  care  were  necessary  to  retain  his  seat  in  the 
saddle.  But  Max  had  received  an  English  officer's  thorough 

o  o 

training  in  horsemanship,  and  with  a  light  and  steady  hand  he 
directed  and  sustained  the  struggles  of  his  horse,  keeping  his  eye 
on  the  outline  of  the  rope  which  he  could  distinctly  see  stretched 
in  a  graceful  bow  from  shore  to  shore,  reaching  about  midway 
to  within  a  few  feet  of  the  surface  of  the  water.  To  this  point  he 
directed  his  course,  and  as  he  approached  it,  calculated  whether 
he  could  reach  the  rope  from  his  horse's  back,  and  whether 
he  might  not  be  carried  past  it.  But  he  was  not  long  left  in 
doubt,  for  in  less  time  than  it  has  taken  me  to  describe,  he  found 
himself  under  it,  and  stretching  out  his  hand  above  his  head, 
seized  fast  hold  upon  it.  And  now  a  difficulty  presented  itself 
which  he  had  not  anticipated.  The  rope  hung  so  high  above  his 
head  that  he  could  barely  reach  it  with  his  outstretched  hand, 
and  to  use  the  other  in  cutting  it  would  oblige  him  to  let  go 
the  reins,  and,  consequently,  give  up  control  of  his  horse.  To 
keep  the  horse  under  him  while  he  hung  half  suspended  from 
the  rope,  would  be  impossible,  and  he  saw  at  once  that  he  must 
give  up  the  horse  and  take  the  chance  of  reaching  the  shore 
without  him.  So  swinging  out  of  the  saddle,  he  raised  himself 
to  the  level  of  the  rope,  and  sustaining  himself  by  one  arm  over 
it,  he  drew  the  knife  from  his  pocket  and  commenced  his  work, 
while  Black  Mike,  free  from  his  master's  control,  turned  his  head 
towards  the  shore,  and  struck  out  boldly  to  reach  it. 

In  the  meantime,  Gibson's  party  had  freed  the  boat  from  its 
fastenings,  and  not  perceiving  the  object  of  Max's  exertions,  had 
already  commenced  (ho  postage  of  the  river.  Max  saw  their 


304  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

approach  and  worked  with  might  and  main,  but  the  rope  was 
several  inches  in  diameter,  made  of  hard,  closely-twisted  hemp, 
and  not  to  be  severed  as  easily  as  he  supposed.  When,  however, 
the  boat  was  within  a  hundred  feet  of  him,  the  rope  parted  with 
a  loud  crack,  and  Max  found  himself  in  the  water.  The  men  in 
the  boat  now  perceived  the  object  of  his  manoeuvre,  but  had 
only  time  to  vent  a  few  disappointed  curses,  when  the  peril  of 
their  own  situation  required  their  attention.  The  boat,  deprived 
of  the  support  of  the  rope,  and  being  broad-side  to  the  current, 
fell  rapidly  down  the  stream,  and  there  seemed  every  proba 
bility  of  the  party  being  carried  down  the  Shennandoah  on  a 
voyage  of  discovery,  but  fortunately  the  tackling  which  fastened 
the  boat  became  entangled  in  the  main  rope,  the  end  of  which, 
loosened  by  Max's  exertions,  swung  around  within  reach  of  them, 
and  they  lost  no  time  in  making  it  fast,  thus  securing  a  connec 
tion  with  the  shore,  by  means  of  which  they  were  enabled  to 
make  a  safe  landing.  They  never  thought  of  rendering  assist 
ance  to  Max — or  if  they  did,  the  thought  was  suppressed  as  soon 
as  entertained,  for  in  their  chagrin  at  the  disappointment  he 
had  given  them,  they  would  gladly  have  seen  him  sink  to  rise 
no  more.  His  first  thought  on  finding  himself  in  the  water  was 
a  feeling  of  satisfaction  that  the  progress  of  the  carriage  could 
not  now  be  interrupted,  and  casting  a  glance  towards  the  right 
bank  of  the  river,  he  saw  it  had  reached  the  shallow  water,  and 
was  within  a  short  distance  of  the  shore.  His  next  thought  was 
of  his  own  situation,  which  was,  indeed,  very  perilous.  He  was 
a  bold  and  expert  swimmer,  and  under  favorable  circumstances 
would  not  have  feared  to  undertake  the  classic  feat  of  swimming 
the  Hellespont,  if  Veronica  had  been  on  the  other  shore,  but 
now  he  was  much  fatigued  by  his  exertions  in  clinging  to  and 
cutting  the  rope,  and  felt  the  necessity  of  husbanding  all  his 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  305 

strength,  for  the  struggle  before  him.  He  was  near  the  middle 
of  the  river,  about  two  hundred  and  forty  yards  from  either 
bank,  and  as  he  suffered  himself  to  drift  down  with  the  current, 
hesitated  for  a  few  moments,  as  to  which  course  he  should 
take. 

He  observed  that  the  current  set  in  towards  the  left,  caused 
by  a  bend  in  the  river  below,  and  recollecting  that  Black  Mike 
had  taken  that  direction,  he  thought  the  animal's  instinct  an 
excellent  guide,  and  determined  to  follow  the  same  course.  He 
did  not  waste  his  strength  in  useless  efforts  to  cross  the  current, 
but  making  up  his  mind  for  a  long  swim,  suffered  himself  to  be 
borne  along  with  it,  satisfied  that  if  he  could  keep  himself  afloat 
long  enough  he  should  be  able  gradually  to  make  his  way  to  the 
land.  lie  might  have  to  swim  a  mile,  or  more,  before  this  could 
be  accomplished,  but  he  felt  himself  freshened  and  strengthened 
by  bis  immersion  in  the  water,  and  struck  out  vigorously  and 
fearlessly. 

As  he  floated  down  the  stream  he  saw  the  party  in  the  boat 
accomplish  a  landing  and  linger  on  the  shore,  apparently  watch 
ing  to  see  what  had  become  of  him.  He  did  not  suppose  they 
could  see  him,  and  never  thought  of  trying  to  make  himself 
heard  in  the  hope  of  assistance,  for  he  knew  the  character  of 
Gibson  and  his  associates,  and  felt  that  no  assistance  could  be 
expected  from  them.  He  thought  at  one  time  he  heard  Tyrell's 
voice  shouting  his  name  from  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  but 
the  sound  came  upon  his  ear  so  faintly  that  he  concluded  it 
was  mere  fancy,  and  did  not  attempt  a  reply.  He  knew  that 
neither  Phil  nor  Tyrell  had  it  in  their  power  to  render  him  any 
help,  and  did  not  care  to  give  them  useless  anxiety — besides  he 
saw  with  much  satisfaction  that  he  was  making  considerable  pro 
gress,  and  felt  quite  confident  in  his  own  ability  to  reach  the  land. 


306  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

A  bend  in  the  river  formed  a  headland  jutting  out  from  the 
left  side,  and  as  Max  saw  its  outline  distinctly  visible  before  him, 
he  made  up  his  mind  to  attempt  a  landing  at  that  spot,  knowing 
that  if  he  were  swept  past  it,  the  current  would  set  in  towards 
the  other  shore,  and  the  dangers  of  his  situation  would  be  very 
much  increased.  This  Headland  was  now  not  more  than  a 
couple  of  hundred  yards  distant,  directly  before  him,  and  he 
kept  his  course  steadily  towards  it.  As  he  advanced,  however, 
he  found  that  the  current  was  bearing  him  off  to  the  right,  and 
as  he  found  his  strength  failing  him,  the  hope  of  being  able  to 
land  on  the  headland  seemed  more  remote — still  he  struck  out 
boldly,  making  every  exertion  to  counteract  the  tendency  of  the 
current,  and  still  made  considerable  progress  towards  the  shore. 
He  lessened  the  space  between  it  and  himself  by  more  than  half 
the  distance  he  had  to  swim,  but  alas,  found  that  the  current, 
stronger  than  he,  was  bearing  him  round  the  point,  and  would 
soon  carry  him  out  to  the  middle  of  the  stream  again.  lie  kept 
his  head  directly  towards  the  shore — determined  to  make  a 
desperate  effort  to  reach  it  before  he  was  carried  past  the  point 
— and  soon  exhausted  his  little  remaining  strength  in  a  useless 

O  O 

stiuggle  with  that  powerful,  relentless  current,  which  seemed 
fated  to  bear  him  on  to  "  that  bourne  whence  no  traveller 
returns."  lie  was  not  more  than  thirty  yards  from  the  river 
bank,  and  the  boughs  of  the  large  sycamores  which  fringe  it 
might  be  reached  in  less  distance,  but  while  he  made  one  yard 
in  that  direction  by  his  exertions,  the  current  carried  him  down 
three,  and  at  this  rate  of  progress  he  saw,  despondingly,  that  he 
would  be  swept  past  the  point  before  he  could  reach  it.  lie  still 
struck  out  boldly,  but  it  was  hoping  against  hope ;  his  over 
strained  strength  was  spent,  his  feeble  limbs  refused  their  office, 
his  heart  sank  within  him.  After  all  his  efforts,  to  perish  within 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  307 

reach  almost  of  safety ! — one  prayer  to  God — one  thought  of 
Veronica — one  pang  of  regret  for  the  bright  world  he  was  to 
leave  for  ever — a  rushing  in  his  ears — a  gurgling  in  his  throat, 
and  he  went  down  in  his  agony. 

13 ut  he  was  not  doomed  to  die  thus,  though  Death  was  close 
beside  him.  As  he  was  carried  down  the  stream  he  struck 
against  something,  which  he  had  consciousness  enough  to  grasp 
and  try  to  raise  his  head  above  the  Avater.  He  succeeded  in 
doing  so ;  a  breath  of  air  revived  him,  and  he  found  he  was 
lodged  among  the  sunken  branches  of  a  tree,  which  formerly 
stood  on  the  margin  of  the  stream,  but  having  been  undermined 
by  the  action  of  the  water,  had  fallen  along  the  bottom  of  the 
river,  holding  out  its  friendly  arms  to  save  him  from  destruction. 
lie  made  himself  secure  in  his  new  position,  returned  thanks  to 
God  for  his  almost  miraculous  preservation,  and  paused  to 
recover  his  strength  before  making  any  further  exertion.  To 
reach  the  shore  was  a  matter  of  little  difficulty ;  the  branches 
of  the  tree  stretched  almost  to  the  surface  of  the  water,  and 
were  so  intertwined  as  to  afford  him  a  secure  hold,  and  \\". 
worked  his  way  from  one  to  another  until  he  came  to  the  main 
trunk,  where  he  was  so  much  out  of  the  current  as  to  be  able  to 
walk  along  it  until  he  reached  the  shallow  water,  through  which 
lie  waded  to  the  shore,  and  again  stood  safe  on  the  left  bank  of 
the  river. 


308  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 


• 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

Oh  !  they  will  murder  thee  1 

It  may  be  so, 

But  I  hope  better  things ;  yet  this  is  sure, 
That  they  shall  murder  me  ere  make  me  go 
The  way  that  is  not  my  way  for  an  inch. 

H.  TATLOB  :  Philip  Van  Arteveld. 

THE  struggle  between  Death  and  Life  was  at  an  end,  and  Life 
had  won  it.  Once  in  the  existence  of  each  of  us,  the  pale  Angel 
will  have  his  hour  of  victory.  Will  it  be  an  everlasting  triumph  ? 
— or  will  the  Angel  of  Life,  shouting  the  battle-cry,  "Thanks 
be  to  God  on  high,  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,"  rise  at  the  moment  of  defeat  and  snatch  us  from 
the  power  of  the  enemy  ? 

Max  walked  slowly  up  the  bank  of  the  stream,  wondering 
what  had  become  of  Black  Mike ;  and  after  going  a  couple  of 
hundred  yards,  was  agreeably  surprised  to  find  his  gallant  steed 
quietly  feeding  on  the  grass,  which  grew  along  the  bank,  and 
apparently  waiting  for  his  master;  he  had  landed  at  a  point 
much  higher  up  the  stream.  Max  found  him  fresh  and  gay,  and 
returned  with  a  kindly  pat  the  affectionate  nicker  with  which 
Mike  recognized  his  master.  He  mounted,  and  was  preparing 
to  set  out  for  Clairmont,  when  his  attention  was.attracted  by  the 
hoarse  cries  of  the  rowdies  on  the  bank  two  or  three  hundred 
yards  above,  apparently  making  an  examination,  to  see  whether 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  309 

he  had  landed  on  that  side  of  the  river.  They  had  lighted  pine 
torches,  which  threw  a  lurid  glare  over  the  dark  water,  while  the 
moon,  peeping  in  and  out  amongst  the  clouds,  left  deeper  dark 
ness  for  each  fitful  gleam,  with  which  she  silvered  the  ripple  of 
the  old  fish-dam  higher  up  the  river.  As  Max  sat  on  his  horse, 
making  up  his  mind  what  he  had  better  do,  and  watching  their 
next  movements,  the  shouts  grew  louder  and  more  fierce,  and  there 
appeared  to  be  increasing  excitement  among  the  rowdies  at  the 
Ferry.  Suddenly  Max  heard  a  horse  galloping  furiously,  and 
drawing  up  a  little  on  one  side,  prepared  to  let  the  rider  pass 
him.  It  was  Williams,  who  had  been  roused  suddenly  from  his 
drunken  sleep,  and  vaguely  recollecting  what  had  passed,  and 
finding  no  money  lying  upon  the  table  where  he  had  left  it,  and 
Governor  Tyrell  gone,  maddened  by  drink,  had  taken  it  into  his 
head  that  he  was  robbed ;  and  now,  with  his  coat  off  and  head 
bare,  was  mounted  on  a  stout  plough-horse,  galloping  like  a  mad 
man  after  the  party.  He  passed  Max  and  saw  him,  but  could 
not  check  himself  in  mid  career.  As  soon  as  he  could  do  so, 
he  turned  his  horse's  head  across  the  road,  so  as  to  block  the  pas 
sage,  and  raised  an  Indian  yell,  which  was  answered  by  the  party. 
Max  perceiving  he  was  thus  hemmed  in,  struck  spurs  into 
Black  Mike.  There  was  a  farm  road,  leading  to  a  mill  almost 
in  front  of  him.  He  turned  into  it  at  full  speed,  and  in  a  very 
few  moments  the  whole  hunt  turned  in  after  him.  After  passing 
through  the  first  gate,  Max  and  Mike  found  themselves  in  a 
corn-field,  across  which  the  rider  (used  to  steeple-chases  and  fox 
hunts  in  Old  England)  guided  his  horse  diagonally  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  turnpike.  A  leap  over  a  low  fence  brought  them  on 
to  the  turnpike,  with  their  pursuers  far  behind.  Max  drew  his 
rein  and  listened  for  their  voices.  They  were  coining  on,  but  he 
thought  they  would  probably  give  up  the  chase  after  they 


310  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

reached  the  highway  ;  nevertheless  he  shook  his  rein  and  put 
Mike  into  a  canter.  But  soon  he  heard  their  horse-hoofs,  hard 
and  fast,  increasing-  in  speed  as  they  caiue  nearer:  a  hand- 
gallop  was  not  enough.  Max  was  brave  as  man  could  be.  For 
one  moment  he  checked  his  horse,  determined  to  confront  them  ; 
but  it  was  no  bravery  to  meet  a  dozen  drunken,  infuriated  men 
at  nio-ht,  in  a  strano-e  country.  Once  more  he  touched  his 

O  J 

horse's  flank,  and  the  gallop  was  increased  to  Black  Mike's 
utmost  fleetness.  The  horse  had  travelled  twenty  miles  before 
that  day,  and  Max,  willing  to  spare  his  favorite  steed,  had  sent 
another  horse  ahead  to  meet  him  at  the  top  of  the  mountain ; 
nevertheless,  notwithstanding  his  extraordinary  exertions,  the 
noble  animal  put  forth  his  utmost  strength,  and  again  his  speed 
and  mettle  distanced  the  pursuers. 

Forward  they  went,  still  at  this  desperate  gallop ;  at  every 
pause  the  clang  of  horses'  hoofs  was  heard  behind.  Many  times 
Max  doubted  whether  it  would  not  be  better  to  turn  at  bay,  and 
meet  Judge  Lynch — and  had  lie  been  an  American  he  would 
probably  have  done  it ;  but  he  had  no  acquaintance  with  his 
worship,  and  less  faith  in  his  equity  than  those  have  who  live  in 
districts  over  which  he  occasionally  presides.  At  length  he 
approached  Fighterstown,  and  felt  relieved  as  the  negro  opened 
the  turnpike  gate,  and  seemed  to  admit  him  through  its  pale 
into  the  security  of  civilization.  lie  rode  slowly  through  the 
dim  and  quiet  street.  For  two  miles  he  had  heard  the  sound  of 
no  pursuing  feet;  and,  whereas  his  first  purpose  had  been  to 
put  up  for  the  remainder  of  the  night  at  the  tavern,  it  seemed 
to  be  so  nearly  dawn  that  he  made  up  his  mind  not  to  stop 
short  of  home.  But  as  he  walked  his  weary  horse  up  the  hill 
before  you  reach  the  avenue  to  Clairmont,  a  hideous  yell  burst 
suddenly  upon  the  silence  in  the  direction  of  the  sleeping  town. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  311 

It  was  too  late  now  to  turn  back,  and  Max  pushed  onward,  to 
seek  the  advice  or  claim  the  protection  of  Mr.  Morrisson.  He 
galloped  up  the  avenue.  His  first  act  on  dismounting  was  to 
take  the  bridle  and  saddle  from  Black  Mike  and  fling  them  on 
the  grass,  and  then  he  rapped  loudly  at  the  closed  front  door. 
It  was  this  noise  which,  in  my  dream,  had  startled  me  in  West 
minster  Abbey.  I  sprang  up  in  my  bed,  and  heard  not  only 
quick  steps  on  the  porch,  and  a  loud  knocking,  but  a  murmur 
of  hoarse  voices  in  the  distance,  where  Fighterstown  lay  white 
and  calm  under  the  summer  moon. 

It  was  about  three  o'clock.  I  threw  open  the  window  and 
looked  out.  Max  stood  upon  the  porch,  looking  down  the  turn 
pike,  and  counting  his  pursuers  as  they  came  up  from  the  town ; 
the  horse  lay  rolling  on  the  grass ;  the  sounds  towards  Fighters- 
town  grew  more  distinct.  I  heard  mens'  cries  and  horses  gal 
loping. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Molly,"  cried  Max,  "  where  is  Mr.  Morrisson  ? 
Call  him  up  and  let  him  open  the  door." 

Before  I  could  close  the  window  and  obey  him,  Veronica,  in 
her  white  dressing-gown,  with  her  red  Indian  cashmere  wrapped 
around  her,  had  glided  from  the  room  and  opened  the  hall- 
door. 

';  What  is  it,  Max  ?"  she  said.  "  What  have  you  done  ?  Are 
you  in  any  clangor  ?" 

"  For  heaven's  sake,"  he  cried,  "  go  in.     Where's  Morrisson  ?" 

"  He  is  gone  to  Laurie's  mill." 

"  And  there  is  nobody  to  protect  you  but  me ;  and  I  have 
brought  that  drunken  rabble  here  !"  he  cried ;  "  I  who  know  too 
little  of  the  character  of  these  people  or  their  designs,  or  even 
the  cause  of  their  pursuit,  to  be  your  defender.  Let  me  go, 
Veronica — let  me  go,  I  say,"  for  she  had  seized  his  arm  with 


312  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

both  her  hands,  and  was  trying  to  draw  him  into  the  house, 
"  and  I  will  meet  them  in  the  avenue." 

"  Max,"  she  cried,  "  come  in.  They  will  not  attack  a  house 
where  women  are;  and  we  will  send  for  help.  Only  let  me 
speak  with  them,  and  remain  passive  ;  it  is  a  case  where  women 
can  act  better  than  men.  Go  up  stairs,and  for  all  our  sakes, 
keep  quiet.  These  men,  let  them  be  drunk  or  angry,  will  not 
hurt  a  woman." 

By  this  time  every  creature  in  the  house  was  in  the  hall.  Mr. 
Parker  roused  from  his  sleeping-place  was  leaning  over  the  stair 
case.  Cousin  Virginia  stood  with  her  back  against  the  door  of 
her  house.  Mary  Louisa  was  putting  a  bar  across  it.  Max  was 
seized  upon  by  all  the  women,  and  Veronica  ran  up-stairs  to  Mr. 
Parker,  imploring  him  to  go  to  Fighterstown  and  bring  us 
succor. 

Veronica  imploring,  lovely  as  she  was,  in  that  red  shawl  and 
white  drapery,  could  not  implore  in  vain. 

"  You  must  go  through  the  woods,"  she  said,  "  and  over  the 
fences.  Keep  to  the  right  of  the  house.  They  are  coming  up 
the  avenue.  Bring  any  one  who  will  assist  with  you.  Bring 
the  Colonel,  he  is  a  justice  of  the  peace.  Mr.  Parker  we  depend 
upon  you." 

"Just  so,"  he  replied.     "I  don't  like  leaving  you,  though." 

"  My  cousin,  Capt.  Mandeville,  is  here,  and  will  take  good  care 
of  us." 

"  Well,  now — I  don't  know  as  he  can  take  much  care  of  him 
self.  I  tell  you  what,  Miss,  he  has  gotten  himself  into  a  tight 
fix,  I  reckon." 

But  in  a  minute  or  two  he  was  out  of  the  house  bv  the  back 
porch ;  and  striking  into^the  woods,  went  on  his  errand,  unper- 
ceived  we  hoped  by  the  party  of  excited  rowdies  who  came 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  313 

straggling  up  the  avenue.  Within  doors,  several  servants  who 
had  come  hastily  from  their  "  quarter,"  were,  under  Max's  direc 
tions,  barricading  windows  and  doors.  Cousin  Virginia  was 
giving  rapid  orders,  and  nobody  had  time  to  attend  to  her. 
Wallace,  who  knew  where  fire-arms  were  kept,  produced  a  bowie- 
knife,  belonging  to  Weston  Carter,  and  a  great  pair  of  unser 
viceable  horse-pistols;  the  little  girls  were  crying  with  fright, 
and  aunt  Edmonia,  in  a  queer  night  coif,  sat  trembling  in  her. 
chair,  Avringing  her  hands  and  groaning  aloud. 

"  Veronica,"  said  Max,  stopping  her  as  she  was  drawing  a 
large  table,  greatly  too  heavy  for  her  strength,  to  barricade  the 
door,  "  you  must  go  away  quickly.  Go  to  your  room,  and  let  me 
act.  I  must  clear  the  hall  at  once.  These  people,  unless  I  go 
out  to  them,  will  break  open  the  door." 

Veronica  shrieked  and  threw  herself  before  him. 

"  Max !  I  entreat  you ! — You  do  not  understand  these  people. 
A  woman  will  do  it  better  than  you.  The  worst  Virginian  has 
consideration  for  a  woman.  There  will  be  help  in  a  few 
moments.  They  might  tear  you  in  pieces.  Think  of  those  to 
whom  your  life  is  precious.  Oh  !  for  the  love  of  heaven,  Max !" 

"  Will  you  care,  Veronica  ? — Will  you  care  ?"  he  said, 
bitterly. 

"  I  did  not  mean  that,"  she  said,  growing  cold,  as  she  remem 
bered  her  position.  "  Come  up-stairs,  let  us  all  come  up.  If 
they  break  open  the  door  we  will  stand  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs.  They  Avill  not  hurt  women." 

We  went  up  stairs,  for  in  her  excitement  her  air  of  command 
was  irresistible,  and  we  obeyed  her  as  one  born  to  rule. 

"  AVhere  is  Max  ?"  she  said,  when  we  found  ourselves  at  the 
door  of  our  room.  "  Molly,  implore  him  to  keep  quiet.  It  is 
the  hardest  part  that  can  be  assigned  to  a  man." 

14 


314  OUR    COUSIN     v  i:  u  o  N  i  c  A  . 

As  she  spoke  she  threw  wide  open  a  window  that  opeued  on 
the  top  of  the  porch,  a  movement  for  which  I  was  quite  unpre 
pared  ;  she  stepped  from  it  and  stood  before  the  crowd.  I  fol 
lowed  her. 

There  was  a  lull  among  them  as  she  suddenly  appeared.  Some 
had  dismounted,  and  were  standing  on  the  porch.  Some  were 
trying  the  weak  door,  whose  hinges  were  not  likely  to  resist. 
Others  had  gone  round  to  the  back  of  the  house,  but  they  all 
came  to  the  front  and  stood  upon  the  grass,  when  we  stepped 
out  and  confronted  them.  There  were  about  a  dozen  men  by 
this  time,  for  all  along  the  road  as  they  came  on  they  had  called 
upon  recruits.  Most  of  them  were  young,  all,  more  or  less, 
excited  by  whisky,  all  influenced  by  the  strongest  passion  that 
excites  men  in  a  slave  state,  and  some  of  them  were  honest,  for 
believing  Max  had  been  concerned  in  the  escape  of  slaves, 
they  looked  upon  him  as  an  abolitionist  and  incendiary.  Fore 
most  in  the  group  was  William  "Williams,  falsifying,  by  word 
and  deed,  his  own  acts,  with  blasphemy  and  violence.  He 
was  foremost  in  calling  Max  incendiary  and  abolitionist,  and 
appeared  in  the  character  of  injured  slave-owner  with  great 
effect,  declaring  that  the  negroes  run  off,  were  his  property. 
Gibson,  the  tavern-keeper,  sat  'on  his  horse,  excited,  but  more 
clear-headed  and  stern.  H«  also  declared  he  owned  the 
negroes. 

"  What  do  you  want,  .gentlemen  ?"  said  Veronica,  her  clear 
tones  breaking  on  the  silence  that  was  made  as  they  looked  up 
at  her. 

"  We  want  that  Englishman  who  has  been  running  off  slaves 
— Will  Williams'  slaves — (here  several  voices  broke  out,  and 
cried  '  Jack  Gibson's !')  Tell  him  to  come  out !  We  don't  want 
to  molest  you  ladies,  but  we  ain't  goin'  to  have  strangers  coming 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  315 

here  and  meddling  with  our  institution.  We  ain't  going  to  have 
any  foreigner  interfering  with  our  niggers.  He  must  quit  it.  Let 
Englishmen  and  abolitionists  stay  at  home,  and  look  after  their 
white  niggers,  who  are  starving  in  their  manufacturing  towns. 
Send  him  down  to  us.  We'll  teach  him  a  thing  or  two." 

"  It  is  false,  gentlemen,  that  my  cousin  had  any  intention  of 
interfering  with  property  belonging  to  any  man  but  himself. 
The  servants  in  question  have  been  purchased  for  the  estate  of 
Mr.  Loinax.  My  cousin,  Capt.  Mandeville,  and  I,  are  heirs  to 
that  estate.  We  had  a  perfect  right  to  send  our  servants  to 
Washington.  It  is  you  who  are  interfering  with  the  rights  of 
ownership.  If  Mr.  Williams  or  Mr.  Gibson  think  otherwise, 
they  can  sue  for  damages  in  the  next  court  at  Fighterstown.  I 
am  ashamed  of  you,  gentlemen — ashamed  of  my  countrymen, 
who  attack  women  and  strangers.  Let  me  beg  you  to  do  us  no 
further  violence,  but  disperse,  and  let  us  alone." 

"  Look  here,  now ;  just  you  go  in.  What  are  you  defending 
him  for  ?"  Will  Williams  cried,  and  laughed  a  drunken  laugh, 
the  echoes  of  which  caught  the  ear  of  Joel  Parker,  half  way 
upon  his  road  to  Fighterstown. 

At  this  moment  Veronica  felt  an  arm  thrown  firmly  round 
her,  and  she  was  drawn  into  the  house  by  Max.  The  dawning 
day  flashed  its  light  upon  his  face  and  Will  Williams  laughed 
the  louder. 

"Forgive  me  this  liberty,"  he  said.  "  But  that  was  no  place 
for  a  woman,  Veronica,  nor  can  I  suffer  myself  to  be  dishonored 
by  allowing  any  woman  to  put  herself  forward  in  my  defence. 
You  must  not  interfere  in  this  matter." 

"  Must  not  ....!"  It  was  different  from  Max's  usual  tone, 
she  thought  he  was  displeased  and  hurt,  and  the  idea  of  his  dis 
satisfaction  moved  her. 


316  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  Will  you  take  care  of  yourself  then  ?"  she  said,  laying  her 
hands  upon  his  arm  with  a  soft  pleading  grace.  He  seized  those 
hands  and  kissed  them,  and  wrung  them,  without  answering,  by 
which  movement  the  advantage  he  had  gained  was  lost,  Veronica 
resumed  her  coldness.  He  had  time  to  feel  the  chill  that  came 
over  her  warmth  of  manner,  before  he  sprang  two  steps  at  a  time 
down  stairs  and  opened  the  front  door. 

"  If  there  is  any  man  among  you  who  calls  himself  a  gentle 
man,  or  who  retains  any  of  the  feelings  popularly  believed  to 
belong  to  gentlemen  in  Virginia,"  he  cried,  "he  will  restrain 
those  drunken  scoundrels  who  may  desire  to  molest  these 
women.  Disperse  or  I  shall  fire  among  you." 

As  he  stood  there  alone,  tall  and  calm  (to  all  appearance), 
though  with  quick  beating  at  his  heart,  as  he  thought  how 
drunken  wretches  pressing  through  that  door,  which  Mary 
Louisa,  at  his  orders,  was  a^ain  making  fast  on  the  inside,  miijlit 

O  O  '  O 

profanely  rush  into  the  presence  of  her  he  loved ;  the  golden 
glowing  sun  scattering  the  clouds  and  mists  that  lingered  in  the 
train  of  darkness,  rose  red  and  majestical  over  the  crest  of  the 
mountain. 

"  One — two ;  I  give  you  warning,  I  shall  fire.  Three !" 
Then  rose  a  yell,  for  somebody  was  hurt,  and  the  crowd 
answered  with  a  flash ;  a  ball  glanced  against  his  heavy  horse- 
pistol,  and  without  wounding  him,  struck  the  side  of  the  front 
door.  Gibson  had  fired  it.  The  crowd  perceiving  he  was  now 
disarmed  pressed  forward  in  a  body  on  the  porch.  He  struggled 
with  the  foremost  ones — one  against  half  a  dozen.  They  over 
powered  him  and  dragged  him  from  the  porch.  Veronica  from 
our  window  saw  their  violence.  Her  limbs  trembled  under  her, 
she  gave  one  loud,  wild  shriek,  rising  louder  than  the  yells  and 
imprecations  of  the  crowd,  and  then  was  silent,  watching,  as  the 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  317 

rising  sun  lighted  their  faces,  if  there  were  any  one  among  the 
group  whom  she  had  ever  seen  before.  Suddenly  she  saw  the 
overseer  of  Jeff  Wayland's  place,  Avho  had  been  roused  from  his 
bed  by  the  cries  of  "  abolitionist,"  and  had  hurried  with  several 
others,  with  no  knowledge  of  the  case,  to  lend  his  aid  to  exter 
minate  such  vermin. 

"  Oh  !  Mr.  Wylde,  save  him !"  she  shrieked — "  save  him,  Mr. 
Wylde.  Oh !  gentlemen,  for  God's  sake  listen  before  you  act. 
Hear  what  he  has  to  say  !" 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do,  Miss  Lomax  ?"  said  Wylde, 
coming  close  up  to  the  house,  and  speaking  under  the  window, 
unheeded  by  the  crowd  without,  so  great  was  the  excitement 
and  confusion. 

"  Get  delay  —delay,"  she  said,  "  at  any  price.  There  will  be 
help  from  the  town  soon.  I  have  sent  a  messenger !" 

Whilst  she  said  this  there  came  help.  As  the  pistol  had  been 
fired,  horsemen  coming  along  the  highway,  put  their  horses  to  a 
quicker  gallop  and  hurried  to  the  rescue.  It  was  a  party  led 
by  Tyrell.  He  and  Phil  had  been  so  anxious«to  ascertain  the 
fate  of  Max,  that  in  spite  of  their  own  danger  they  had  lingered 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  river;  and,  when  they  discovered 
vengeance  against  Max  was  set  on  foot,  and  that  a  presentment 
before  Judge  Lynch  was  in  question,  Tyrell  left  the  carriage 
under  the  command  of  Phil,  and  without  a  word  turned  the  head 
of  his  weary  horse,  and  plunged  again  into  the  river.  This  time 
he  made  no  attempt  to  find  the  ford,  but  swam  across  the  cur 
rent  ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  landed  safely. 

A  negro  at  the  tavern  told  what  had  taken  place,  and  he 
galloped  steadily  towards  Fighterstown,  falling  in  along  the 
road  with  gentlemen  on  horseback,  roused  by  the  rowdies  jyho 
had  stopped  at  all  the  farms  along  the  road,  to  call  upon  their 


318  OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA. 

male  inhabitants  to  lend  their  aid  in  putting  down  an  attempt 
to  run  off  slaves — that  worst  of  high  treason,  in  their  eyes, 
against  the  institutions  of  their  state,  and  the  interests  of  their 
community.  To  all  these,  Tyrell  in  few  words  explained  the 
facts.  A  few  after  hearing  him  turned  homeward  to  their  beds, 
but  the  greater  part,  indignant  against  Gibson  and  Will  Williams, 
joined  him  in  pursuit  of  their  party. 

For  a  long  time  they  heard  no  sounds  ahead,  only  the  tramp 
of  their  own  horses.  After  a  while,  however,  they  began  to  hear 
occasional  hoarse  noises.  As  they  passed  through  Fighterstown 
its  inhabitants  were  all  afoot.  The  exasperated  rowdies  had 
pulled  up  before  the  tavern  and  yelled  until  they  roused  the 
landlord  and  obtained  more  liquor.  The  colonel,  who  was 
justice  of  the  peace,  was  lingering  in  the  street,  hesitating  on 
which  side  to  place  the  majesty  of  the  law — a  few  words  from 
Tyrell  decided  him.  Tyrell's  party  was  swelled  by  all  the 
respectability  of  the  place ;  as  much-  of  it,  at  least,  as  could 
be  mounted  at  a  moment's  notice.  They  hurried  on  to  Clair- 
mont,  passing  Joel  Parker  on  their  way,  who  was  approaching 
the  village  from  an  opposite  quarter. 

Some  of  the  gentlemen  impetuously  galloped  straight  into 
the  midst  of  the  rioters,  scattering  and  dispersing  the  drunken 
rowdies.  On  Tyrell's  ear,  Veronica's  wild  shriek,  as  she  beheld 
Max  seized,  rang  like  the  blast  of  a  war  trumpet. 

"  Cowardly  ruffians !"  he  cried,  "  disperse  !  The  colonel  will 
be  here  almost  immediately,  with  a  party  of  constables.  I  know 
your  ringleaders  !  Release  Captain  Mandeville." 

There  were  confused  cries  about  Judge  Lynch  and  "  aboli 
tionists." 

"J3ring  him  before  a  magistrate,  and  arrest  me  too,  for 
I  am  as  guilty  as  lie.  I  wish  to  have  this  matter  sifted  and 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  319 

brought  to  light  before  the  whole  community,"  cried  Tyrell. 
"And  if  it  costs  me  all  the  value  of  my  farm  I  Avill  punish  the 
ringleaders  of  this  disgraceful  proceeding." 

"  Bring  him  down  to  the  court  house  and  confine  him  in  the 
jail.  There  he  will  be  safe,"  said  some  of  the  party. 

"  Yes,"  exclaimed  Max,  "  give  me  fair  play — a  fair  examination 
is  all  I  ask.  Stay  with  the  women  Tyrell." 

But  the  alarm  had  spread  to  Lawrie's  Mill,  and  Mr.  Morrisson 
arrived  at  that  moment,  so  that  Tyrell  left  him  to  guard  Clair- 
mont,  and  placing  Max  upon  Mr.  Morrisson's  horse,  rode  by 
his  side,  with  a  great  body-guard  of  friends  and  foes,  into  the 
village. 


320  OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

Keserv'dness  is  a  mighty  friend 

To  form  and  virtue  too, 
A  shining  merit  should  pretend 

To  such  a  star  as  you. 
Maintain  a  modest  kind  of  state, 

'Tig  graceful  in  a  maid  ; 
It  does  at  least  respect  create, 

And  makes  the  fools  afraid. 
Let  baffled  lovers  call  it  pride, 
Pride's  an  excess  o'  the  better  side. 

COTTON',  1G60. 

CLAIRMONT  was  left  with  trampled  grass  and  broken  window- 
panes  to  its  inhabitants ;  and  Veronica,  while  every  body  else 
was  pointing  out  evidences  of  devastation,  or  relating  with  one 
voice  his  or  her  share  in  the  night's  experience,  went  up  into 
our  chamber,  where  I  found  her  an  hour  after,  kneeling  by  the 
bed,  with  her  face  buried  in  the  bed-clothes.  When  she  rose  up 
from  prayer  she  was  the  calmest  person  in  the  place — the  only 
one  of  us  who  was  not  boastful  of  experiences,  though  she  had 
been  the  only  one  exposed  to  real  danger.  I  saw  her  after  break 
fast,  patting  Black  Mike,  who  was  grazing  in  the  yard,  apparently 
not  the  worse  for  his  night's  work ;  and  I  heard  her  asking 
Tommy  Tad  to  inquire  if  his  Uncle  Israel  had  seen  him  fed  that 
morning. 

Max  meanwhile  was  at  the  court-house,  undergoing  an  exam- 


OUR     COUSIN     VEEONICA.  321 

ination  before  the  colonel.  The  charge  preferred  against  him 
was  for  firing  at  William  Williams,  with  intent  to  kill,  maim, 
wound,  &c.  Tyrell  was  involved  in  the  abduction  business,  and 
Williams  and  Jake  Gibson  knew  their  own  interests  too  well  to 
bring  any  action  in  which  Tyrell's  wide-spread  popularity  would 
damage  their  cause.  A  man's  character  is  worth  dollars  and 
cents  to  him  in  a  small  community,  where  every  juryman  sets 
his  own  value  upon  evidence ;  and  so  the  business  before  the 
magistrates  ended  by  Max  being  bound  over  for  trial  at  the 
October  court,  wh'ich  would  be  held  at  Charlestown. 

When  this  business  was  over,  the  presiding  magistrate,  who  was 
also  the  militia  colonel,  post-master,  and  keeper  of  the  dry  goods 
emporium  of  the  village,  came  up  to  Max,  as  he  and  Joel  Parker 
were  standing  on  the  steps  of  the  court-house,  having  a  few  last 
words  with  Tyrell,  who  was  going  home. 

"  If  you'd  take  my  advice,"  said  he,  "  capt'n,  you  would  quit 
the  neighborhood  till  this  matter  is  blown  over.  There  are  per 
sons  who  accuse  you  of  abolition  views,  and  who  would  not  be 
sorry  to  see  you  get  into  difficulty  with  the  rowdies  Avho  have 
taken  up  this  business.  If  you  were  as  favorably  known  in  this 
community  as  Mr.  Tyrell,  I  should  advise  you  to  stand  your 
ground,  and  shoot  one  or  two  of  these  rascals,  as  you  are  not  a 
professor  of  religion,  I  understand,  and  so  would  not  object  to 
fight  on  Christian  principles." 

"  I  hope  I  am  sufficiently  religious  not  to  desire  to  shoot  a  man 
on  any  principles,"  said  Max  ;  "  but  I  am  not  afraid  of  threats, 
and  have  no  intention  of  leaving  the  neighborhood." 

"  Well,  then,"  rejoined  the  colonel,  "  I  reckon  you  had  best 
put  a  couple  of  pistols  in  your  pocket,  and  let  it  be  understood 
that  you  go  armed." 

"  Well,  now,  I  reckon  that  warn't  bad  advice,  of  the  old  gen- 
14* 


322  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

tleman's,"  Joel  Parker  said,  as  the  colonel  turned  back  into  the 
court-room.  "  I  live  beyond  here  a  piece,  and  I  am  going  right 
away  up  into  the  mountain.  I  reckon,  capt'n,  you  had  better 
come  and  stay  a  month  or  so  at  my  place :  I'll  fix  you  up  the 
best  I  can.  I  can  give  you  elegant  parched  corn,  and  I've  got 
lots  of  persim;uons. 

"  The  temptation  is  not  extravagant,"  said  Tyrell,  in  an  aside 
to  Max,  as  he  got  upon  his  horse,  and  bent  over  his  side  to  fix 
the  martingale.  "  We  shall  hear  from  Phil  at  Washington,  I 
hope,  in  a  day  or  two.  I  told  him  to  write  as  soon  as  he  had 
placed  Uncle  Christopher  and  the  rest  under  the  protection  of  Mr. 
Gregg,  an  honorable  senator,  who  is  my  father's  great  friend, 
and  who,  when  the  affair  has  been  arranged,  will  see  them  all 
booked  for  Philadelphia.  My  father  will  ride  over  to-morrow, 
and  see  Gibson  about  this  business.  Gibson's  position  in  the 
community  is  such  that  he  cannot  afford  to  quarrel  with  respect 
able  persons." 

So  saying,  Tyrell  rode  away  at  a  brisk  trot,  and  disappeared 
under  a  grove  of  walnut-trees,  spared  in  the  middle  of  Fighters- 
town,  in  the  unenclosed  play-ground  of  the  academy. 

Max  and  Joel  Parker  prepared  to  walk  to  Clairmont.  They 
would  have  done  better  to  cross  this  plot,  and  avoid  the  main 
street  of  the  muddy  little  town ;  but  they  were  not  acquainted 
with  the  short-cuts,  being  both  of  thorn  strangers. 

They  therefore  walked  together  into  the  main  street,  at  the 
corner  of  which  stood  a  grocery.  As  they  approached,  Will 
Williams,  who  was  drinking  there  with  some  others  of  his  set, 
got  up  from  a  store-box  upon  which  he  was  sitting. 

"  I  reckon  I  know  a  trick  '11  serve  you  yet  capt'n,"  said  he 
coming  out  into  the  street  and  squaring  his  arms.  "  Promise 
to  pay  me  ten  thousand  dollars  cash  down,  and  I'll  sign  you  the 


OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA.  323 

claim  to  Oatlands,  which  on  no  other  terms  are  you  going  to 
get.  Lord !  what  a  fool  you  were  to  swagger  out  here  like  an 
Englishman,  thinking  a  thorough-bred  Virginia  girl  would  snap 
at  you  like  a  duck  at  a  June-bug." 

"  Stand  aside,  sir.  Let  me  pass,"  said  Max,  for  Williams  was 
balancing  himself  in  the  middle  of  the  side-walk,  and  Max  did 
not  choose  to  go  out  of  the  road.  • 

Williams  made  some  gestures  of  impertinence,  Max  knocked 
him  down,  and  stepped  out  of  the  path,  while  Joel  Parker 
strode  over  him,  as  he  laid  prostrate,  and  they  passed  on  their 
way,  without  a  word,  through  the  main  street  of  Fighterstown. 

The  friends  of  Williams  picked  him  up  and  carried  him  into 
the  grocery.  Max  and  Parker  heard  drunken  curses,  hoarse  and 
loud,  bawled  after  them  as  they  went  along  the  highway. 

At  Clairmont,  standing  on  the  porch,  was  Mr.  Morrisson. 

"  Where  is  that  rascal,  Williams,  captain  ?"  said  he,  '  see  what 
his  gang  has  done  to  my  plantation — trampled  my  grass  and 
loosened  my  door-hinges." 

"Reckon  you'll  have  him  up  here  before  long,"  said  Joel 
Parker.  .  "  The  capt'n  ran  at  him  just  as  savage  as  a  trout  runs 
at  a  bait,  and  knocked  him  down  as  we  came  out  of  Fighters- 
town.  If  I'd  been  the  capt'n  I'd  have  whipped  him  when  I  got 
a  chance.  I  wouldn't  have  left  a  grease  spot  of  him.' 

"  I  gave  him  enough  to  quiet  him,"  said  Max. 

"  Enough  to  make  him  mad — and  not  enough  to  make  him 

o  o 

quit  it,"  Joel  Parker  said.    "  Mad !  he's  as  angry  as  a  stump-tailed 
bull  in  fly-time." 

Max  laughed  at  the  comparison.  He  caught  sight  of  Vero 
nica's  head  at  the  moment.  She  was  sitting  in  the  drawing 

O  *~J 

room,  busied  about  some  trifle  of  woman's  work,  looking  so  still, 
so  cool,  so  feminine,  as  she  sat  in  her  white  dress,  with  her  eyes 


324  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

bent  on  her  sewing,  that  it  was  hard  to  conceive  she  was  the 
Veronica  of  the  night  before.  Max  forgot  Williams  and  Joel 
Parker,  and  the  annoyances  of  the  court-house,  as  he  gazed  at 
her,  though  only  her  head  and  ear,  and  one  of  her  eyes,  with  its 
soft  lashes,  bending  towards  her  cheek,  could  be  seen  above  the 
window-frame.  He  gathered  a  red  rose  from  a  cluster  that 
climbed  up  a  pillar  of  the  porch,  and  went  up  to  the  window 
and  offered  it  to  her.  She  put  out  her  hand  and  took  the  rose, 
and  laid  it  down  beside  her.  Vs 

"  Wear  it  Veronica,"  he  said.  "  I  have  been  thinking  as  I 
watched  you,  how  much  I  wished  to  see  it  in  your  hair." 

A  blush  mounted  on  her  cheek,  and  words  unuttered  seemed 
to  tremble  on  her  lips,  but  with  a  laugh  as  careless  as  pride  could 
make  it,  she  replied,  "  It  is  easy  to  gratify  any  one  who  makes 
GO  trifling  a  request,"  and  putting  up  her  hands,  she  fixed  it  in 
her  hair. 

There  was  a  pause.  "  Are  you  not  tired,"  he  said,  "  after  such 
a  dreadful  night?  I  cannot  blame  myself  enough  for  having 
brought  those  ruffians  to  disturb  you." 

"Ask  cousin  Virginia  how  she  feels,"  replied  Veronica. 
"  She  has  been  on  the  verge  of  hysterics  ever  since  the  danger 
was  over.  Some  people  expend  all  their  heroism  in  a  great 
effort,  and  when  the  fever  is  past,  lie  crushed  and  languishing. 
My  excitement  passes  gradually  off,  and  is  not  yet  over.  But 
you  must  be  exhausted,  cousin  Max.  Let  me  get  you  something 
to  eat?  I  was  wanting  in  Virginia  hospitality  not  to  think 
of  it  before." 

"No,"  said  Max,  "I  had  some  breakfast  in  the  court-house, 
which  the  colonel  sent  to  me.  I  had  some  sleep  there,  too.  I 
was  apprehensive  of  tobacco  stains  if  I  took  up  my  quarters  on 
the  floor,  and  so  bivouacked  upon  the  uidge's  table." 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  325 

"Mandeville,"  cried  Mr.  Morrisson,  at  this  moment,  "  Mr.  Parker 
and  I  have  been  discussing  your  assault  upon  young  Williams. 
If  you  stay  here  this  house  is  not  safe  from  another  attack.  I 
shall  have  to  collect  a  guard  of  gentlemen  to  protect  my  family, 
Avhich  will  be  very  inconvenient  to  the  friends  that  I  might  call 
upon,  as  it  is  just  harvest  time.  I  do  not  know  what  to  do 
about  it.  I  recommend  you  to  take  advantage  of  an  invitation 
from  Mr.  Parker,  and  go  with  him  to  Rappahannock  for  a  while, 
till  this  matter  has  blown  over." 

"  To  Rappahannock,  sir !"  said  Max,  "  what  should  I  do  in 
Rappahannock  ?" 

"You  endanger  my  property,  and  my  family,"  said  Mr.  Mor 
risson,  "  and  it  is  very  foolish  upon  your  part  to  expose  yourself 
to  the  anger  of  these  persons,  who  will  not  stick  at  anything." 

"  I  had  best  take  you  along  with  me  to  Rappahannock,  if 
you  will  come,"  said  Mr.  Parker,  in  a  hospitable  way.  "  It's  a 
mighty  pretty  country  'way  yonder  where  I  come  from.  In 
another  week  or  two  we'll  shoot  a  deer." 

Then,  observing  that  Max  hesitated,  he  continued : 

"  I  reckon  you'd  best  make  up  your  mind  right  away,  and 
we'll  set  out  cap'en,  afore  any  of  them  rowdies  get  about  again. 
They'd  have  a  precious  time  if  they  was  to  attack  my  house. 
They'd  have  to  come  up  a  narrow  pass,  single  file,  where  we'd 
pick  'em  off,  one  by  one,  as  they  came  up,  I  reckon." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  Mr.  Parker,  but  .  .  .  . " 

"  Now,  then,  I'll  ask  Miss  Veronica  what  she  says,"  said  Joel 
Parker,  turning  to  our  cousin.  "Don't  you  think,  now,  he 
ought  to,  Miss  ? — let  us  hear  what  you  say." 

"  I  am  of  Mr.  Parker's  opinion,"  said  Veronica,  in  a  low 
voice.  "  1  think  that  by  staying  here,  he  may  expose  himself, 
and,  perhaps,  others,  in  a  very  needless  way." 


326  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Max  looked  at  her,  till  the  blood  rose  in  her  cheek. 

"  You  advise  me  to  accept,  then  ?"  said  he. 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  she  said.     "  It  is  my  best  advice  to  you." 

"  And  when  may  I  come  back  to  Clairmont  ?" 

"  When  Molly  wishes  it,"  said  Veronica. 

"  When  Molly  wishes  what  2"  said  Max,  trembling  himself,  as 
his  fate  trembled  in  the  balance. 

"  When  Molly  wishes  to  return  to  England.  Molly,"  she  said, 
turning  to  me,  as  I  came  in,  "  there  is  a  proposition  before  us 
which  involves  the  safety  of  Max ;  persuade  him  to  adopt  it  if 
possible." 

Cousin  Virginia  Morrisson  came  in  too,  and  when  she  heard 
that  further  mischief  might  perhaps  be  afoot,  and  that  Mr. 
Parker  proposed  to  take  Max  with  him  into  the  mountains,  she 
was  pressing  in  her  advice  to  him  to  go — were  it  only  for  a  few 
days — into  Rappahannock  county.  I  seconded  cousin  Virginia, 
for  I,  too,  was  seriously  alarmed. 

"The  only  thing  to  be  apprehended  now,"  said  Mr.  Parker, 
aside  to  Mr.  Morrisson,  "  is  that  they  should  waylay  him  on  the 
route.  I  recommend  that  the  young  ladies  should  ride  along 
with  us  a  piece.  I  reckon  they  won't  much  mind  going." 

I  overheard  him,  and  carried  the  proposition  in  a  whisper  to 
Veronica. 

"  I  do  not  see,"  said  she,  aloud,  "  why  we  may  not  ride  as  far 
as  Front  Royal,  if  you  will  go  with  us  and  bring  us  back,  Mr. 
Morrisson.  Molly,  can  you  ride  twenty-five  miles  before  dark, 
and  come  back  to-morrow  morning  ?" 

"  Oh  !  yes !  indeed  I  can." 

"  Come,  now, — that's  real  elegant  of  you,"  cried  Joel  Parker. 
"  I  like  that  in  you, — you're  an  old  soldier." 

" If  you  consult  the  wishes  of  us  all"  said  Veronica,  with  a 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  327 

slight  emphasis,  turning  to  Max,  "  you  will  accept  the  hospitality 
of  Mr.  Parker.  I  hope,"  she  went  on  to  say,  in  her  quiet  way, 
"  that  Mike  has  mettle  enough  left  for  another  journey.  We 
shall  ride  slowly — it  will  not  be  like  the  race  that  he  ran  yester 
day.  Mr.  Morrisson,  will  you  call  to  Uncle  Israel,  and  tell  him 
to  get  up  our  ponies  ?  Molly,  let  us  get  ready." 

"  It  is  time  we  were  off,"  said  Mr  Parker. 

Cousin  Virginia  protested  we  must  have  "  a  snack."  Veronica 
hurried  me  up-stairs  to  put  on  my  riding-dress,  and  pack  our 
necessaries  into  saddle-bags,  to  be  carried  by  Mr.  Morrisson,  and 
thus  it  was  arranged,  almost  without  the  will  or  consent  of  Max, 
that  he  should  become  the  guest  of  the  eccentric  mountaineer, 
who  had  dropped,  the  day  before,  into  our  company. 

Oh !  how  bitterly  he  repented  the  self-confidence  which  had 
anticipated  no  difficulties  in  his  courtship,  which  had  looked 
upon  Veronica  as  a  girl,  young  and  facile — easy  to  be  won. 
Had  he  known  more  of  her,  the  six  months  he  had  stayed  in 
England  after  her  uncle's  death,  would  have  been  passed  in 
endeavoring  to  render  himself  acceptable  to  her.  Fool !  to  have 
based  his  pretensions  upon  her  uncle's  will !  Fool !  to  have 
thought  that  the  immature  girl  who  had  returned  the  love  he 
paid  her  in  her  teens,  would  retain  her  regard  for  him  when  she 
became  a  queen  amongst  women !  Fool !  to  have  lingered  in 
his  courtship,  dreaming  she  could  be  won  by  a  few  lover's 
speeches,  a  few  attentions,  a  little  offering  of  his  pride  made  to 
her  vanity,  a  gift  to  be  resumed  when  the  wedding  day  was 
over,  and  the  prize  was  won. 

And  yet  the  thought  arose  and  tempted  him,  that  until  even 
ing  he  might  be  riding  at  her  side,  and  that  during  those  hours, 
an  opportunity  of  testing  his  fate  might  be  afforded  him.  And 
at  the  prospect  his  heart  beat  fiercely  in  his  breast,  though 


328  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

it  sickened  as  it  beat,  when  he  thought  of  the  probability  of 
losing  her. 

"  But  I  cannot  go  without  leaving  some  word  or  message  for 
Mr.  Williams,"  he  said,  suddenly. 

"  What  do  you  want  to  say  to  William  Williams,  I  should 
like  to  know  ?"  said  Mr.  Morrisson. 

"  I  wish  to  let  him  know  where  I  have  gone,  in  order  to  pro 
tect  your  house,"  said  Max.  He  will  not  seek  me  here  if  he 
knows  that  I  am  not  to  be  found,  and  in  the  next  place  I  wish 
to  tell  him  where  to  find  me.  You  will  not  object  to  my  inform 
ing  him  that  I  shall  be  your  guest,  Mr.  Parker  ?" 

"  I  rather  presume  not  capt'n.  Let  him  bring  on  his  rowdies. 
We  could  pick  off  the  whole  gang  of  'em,  one  by  one.  I 
reckon  we  would  make  the  fur  fly,"  said  the  belligerent 
Parker. 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  329 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

I  turn  to  thee,  and  say,  "  Ah !  loveliest  friend 

That  this  the  meed  of  all  my  tolls  may  be, 

To  have  a  home — an  English  home — and  thee." 

COLEKIDQE. 

WHILE  Max  sealed  a  note  lie  had  written  to  Will 
Williams,  lest  any  suspicion  of  flight  should  attach  to  his 
departure,  Veronica  and  I  stood  on  the  porch  waiting  for  the 
gentlemen.  Mr.  Parker,  with  his  saddle-bags  over  his  arm,  and 
in  a  full  dress  suit  of  black,  was  standing  by  the  horses.  He 
helped  me  to  mount  Angelo,  while  Max  put  Veronica  upon  her 
pony.  She  did  not  oppose  his  riding  by  her  side,  thinking, 
indeed,  that  her  presence  would  protect  him  more  effectually 
than  mine,  should  any  violence  be  offered  him. 

They  rode  under  the  green  trees,  through  the  summer-woods, 
and  both  were  silent.  The  heart  of  the  young  man  stirred  with 
the  breath  of  life  and  love  like  the  leaves  that  waved  above  him. 
He  was  more  nearly  alone  with  her  than  he  had  been  at  any 
moment  since  his  arrival,  for  Mr.  Parker  was  bent  on  paying  court 
to  me,  and  kept  me  as  much  as  possible  in  the  rear,  while  Mr. 
Morrisson  upon  his  long-tailed  colt,  being  a  heavy  man,  was 
always  behind  the  rest  of  his  party.  The  opportunity  Max  sought 
was  afforded  him.  Pensive — her  sweet  face  shaded  by  her  riding- 
hat — she  rode  beside  him.  Her  right  hand  almost  touched  him. 


330  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

What  would  he  nx>t  have  given  to  guess  one  of  her  thoughts  ? 
One  of  those  thoughts  which  lie  too  deep,  in  the  deep  waters  of 
the  heart,  to  be  drawn  up  to  the  surface  by  every  bucket,  and 
spilled  carlessly  abroad  in  idle  words.  Serene  and  beautiful, 
did  her  daily  life  flow,  scarcely  ruffled,  over  these  hidden 
thoughts,  catching  the  reflection  of  passing  influences, — as  the 
brook  reflects  the  trees  that  wave  upon  its  banks,  and  the  birds 
that  skim  over  its  surface,  and  the  colors  of  the  skyscape,  as  the 
sun  goes  down  ? 

Max  was  not  accustomed  to  draw  analogies.  At  this  moment 
his  own  feeling  was,  that  he  had  neither  need  of  speech  nor 
wish  for  it.  He  imagined  what  he  would  say  to  her  when  he 
broke  silence.  His  enraptured  fancy  imagined  the  possibility  of 
that  gauntleted  right  hand  which  held  'the  riding-whip,  being 
laid  in  his  firm  grasp,  while  the  beautiful  fair  face  was  turned 
away  with  the  sweet  shyness  of  surrender.  And  then  that  other 
awful  possibility  which  seemed  like  an  eclipse  of  life  !  Max 
thought  nothing  of  the  loss  of  fortune  and  position  now.  His 
thoughts  were  only  of  the  inexpressible  happiness  of  knowing 
that  the  fair  woman  at  his  side  was  to  continue  his  for  ever,  or  the 
bitterness  of  that  other  alternative — an  alternative  which  would 
make  him  wish  that  he  had  never  been  born.  He  thought  how 
fondly  he  would  cherish  her  if  the  little  hand  were  laid  in  his, 
how  the  weakness  of  her  womanhood  should  be  shielded  by  his 
strength.  How  he  would  keep  her  safely  from  all  danger,  as 
she  leaned  upon  his  arm,  and  looked  up  to  him  for  manly  tender 
ness  and  kind  protection.  He  thought  how  every  noble  pur 
pose  in  his  heart  would  ripen  into  fruit  of  noble  action.  He 
thought  of  the  blessedness  of  coming  home  from  the  rude  bustle 
of  the  race  of  life,  and  being  welcomed  under  the  shadow  of  his 
roof  by  those  kind  eyes.  Queen,  as  she  was,  to  him  she  should 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  331 

be  doubly  queen.  "  Queen  of  my  life !"  he  called  her  in  his 
frantic  thoughts,  and  looked  at  her  with  earnest  eyes,  when  he 
had  named  her  thus,  as  she  sat  beautiful  and  calm,  at  his  side, 
on  her  white  pony. 

Still  they  rode  on  in  silence,  Max,  busied  with  his  thoughts, 
did  not  perceive  the  flight  of  time,  or  if  he  did,  he  felt  the  pre 
sent  silence  would  explain  itself  in  the  question  and  answer  of 
the  future. 

Oh !  solemn  silence,  when  the  earthly  destiny  of  two  who 
may  be  one,  hangs  trembling  in  the  balance.  And  one  of  them 
may  perhaps  be  walking  heedlessly  beneath  that  trembling  fate, 
while  if  she  knew  what  was  to  come,  prayer  (if  she  ever  prayed 
at  all)  would  rise  up  to  the  lips  so  soon  to  utter  the  answer 
which  will  bring  the  highest  human  joy,  or  deepest  human  sor 
row.  Max  felt  inclined  to  pray.  The  situation  awed  him. 
Every  holy  feeling  in  his  heart  was  stirred  within  him.  There 
were  aspirations  after  goodness  and  perfection  in  his  heart,  such 
.  as  he  had  never  been  conscious  of  since  nursery  days.  "  My 
Veronica,"  he  called  her  in  his  thoughts,  "  my  own  Veronica !" 
And  his  heart  leaped  up  as  he  said  it,  for  though  the  words  had 
not  been  uttered  with  his  voice,  they  startled  him  so  much  that 
it  almost  seemed  as  if  she  must  have  heard  them. 

At  length  she  broke  the  silence.  It  was  only  a  question 
about  the  adventures  of  the  night.  He  answered  her  briefly, 
without  any  of  the  assiduity  of  attention  with  which  a  lover  in 
less  pre-occupied  moments  answers  the  questions  of  his  mistress, 
and  they  relapsed  into  silence.  At  last  Max  spoke.  "  Listen  to 
me,"  he  said,  "  cousin  Veronica."  She  turned  her  eyes  on  him, 
and  the  old  coldness  settled  on  her  features. 

Max  was  chilled  by  her  look.  Instead  of  the  warm  Words 
which  he  had  just  been  saying  to  her  in  his  thoughts,  he  became 


332  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

constrained,  and  approached  his  question  very  differently  from 
the  way  in  which  he  had  addressed  her  in  his  heart,  but  a  few 
moments  before. 

"  It  may  be  some  weeks  before  I  see  you  again,  cousin  Veron 
ica  ;  and  though  I  risk  your  displeasure — perhaps  your  fortune, 
if  I  speak,  it  seems  to  me  but  right  that  we  should  part  with 
some  better  understanding  with  each  other." 

What  could  be  colder  ?  and  Max  felt  that  it  was  cold ;  but 
the  cold  look  in  her  eyes  took  from  him  all  his  confidence.  He 
began  to  feel  that  it  was  but  a  forlorn  hope  that  he  had  staked 
his  all  upon. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  every  way  I  turn,  my  freedom  of  judg 
ment  is  hedged  by  the  provisions  of  this  unhappy  will,  Veronica. 
If  it  were  possible  to  delay  Avhat  I  now  wish  to  say,  till  I  should 
be  in  a  freer  position  to  offer  you  disinterested  love,  I  should 

prefer  to  do  it.  As  it  is Veronica,  may  I  speak  to  you 

of  all  my  hopes  ?" 

For  a  moment  she  did  not  answer;  then  she  replied. 

"  Do  as  you  please ;  my  only  hesitation  is  on  account  of  the 
negroes  whose  welfare  is  connected  with  the  answer  I  may  give 
you.  Cousin  William  is  notoriously  a  bad  master." 

"  Your  answer  would  certainly  be  unfavorable  to  my  hopes  ?" 
said  Max  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  for for  the  question  contemplated 

in  the  will  ?"  she  replied.  "  Am  I  to  give  you  an  unequivocal 
answer  ?" 

He  looked  into  her  face  and  turned  away.  The  path 
became  narrow,  and  he  suffered  her  to  ride  before  him  for  a  hun 
dred  yards  or  two.  When  he  resumed  his  place  beside  her,  he 
said,  "  Veronica,  I  have  saidall  that  I  intend  to  say.  You  know 
my  hopes — I  think  you  know  my  heart ;  it  is  for  you  to  decide 


OUK     COUSIN     VERONICA.  333 

our  fate.  Give  me  some  sign  if  you  are  disposed  to  be  favorable 
to  my  suit — if  not,  let  us  say  nothing  more  about  it.  We  are 
placed  in  a  position  of  great  difficulty  and  delicacy,  and  I  think 
that  any  further  advances  ought  to  come  from  you." 

She  said  nothing — still  nothing.  They  rode  on  a  mile — two 
miles — five  miles,  till  they  approached  the  bank  of  the  winding 
Shenandoah ;  then  Veronica  spoke,  and  said, 

"  Cousin  Max,  I  have  consulted  your  true  interests,  as  you  will 
find,  when  a  few  weeks  have  softened  any  mortification  you  may 
feel  at  what  has  past.  Let  us  be  good  friends.  There  are  several 
subjects  that  concern  us  both  on  which  Governor  Tyrell  will  con 
sult  Avith  you." 

She  held  out  to  him  the  little  hand,  but  it  was  now  no 
pleasure  to  him  to  take  it. 

"  Won't  you  be  friends  with  me  ?"  she  said,  with  a  tremor  in 
her  voice.  "Believe  me,  cousin  Max,  you* will  soon  thank  me, 
and  feel  that  I  have  acted  as  I  ought.  I  wish  you  may  have  a 
wife  who  will  make  you  very  happy.  Cousin  Max,  to  be  happy, 
and  to  make  her  happy,  you  must  love  her,  you  know." 

"  Good-bye,  Veronica,"  he  said. 

They  were  standing  under  the  trees  near  McCoy's  Ferry,  wait 
ing  for  the  ferry-man  to  push  his  boat,  across  and  put  them  over. 

Mr.  Parker  and  I  came  up.  He  had  been  paying  his  addresses 
to  me  all  the  way,  and  was  dreadfully  hard  to  convince  that  it 
would  not  at  all  suit  me  to  become  Mrs.  Parker. 

"  Max,  I  am  sorry  to  interrupt  your  conversation  with  Veronica," 
I  said;  "  but  you  really  must  keep  beside  me  for  the  remainder  of 
our  ride.  I  cannot  have  any  more  conversation  with  Mr.  Parker." 

"  Veronica  and  I  have  said  all  we  have  to  say,"  he  replied. 

I  knew  what  had  taken  place  by  his  tone  and  his  look. 

"  Oh,  Max !"  I  said. 


334  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

He  stopped  me  with  a  glance  which  said,  "  Be  silent  if  you 
please."  I  thought  of 

The  busy  hand  of  consolation, 
Fretting  the  sore  wound  it  could  not  hope  to  heal. 

and  I  was  silent. 

Mr.  Morrisson  came  up,  and  we  all  crossed  the  ferry.  There 
were  heavy  hearts  amongst  us,  as  we  began  to  ascend  the  moun 
tain  on  the  other  shore,  and  after  riding  a  couple  of  miles  fur 
ther  we  put  up  for  the  night  at  Fennel's  tavern — a  little  roadside 
farm-house,  which  provided  entertainment  for  man  and  beast, 
more  simple,  but  far  cleaner,  than  any  we  should  have  had  by 
stopping  at  the  larger  public  house  in  the  little  village  of  Front 
Royal. 

The  people  were  Methodists.  It  was  the  close  of  the  working 
man's  day  with  them.  They  were  preparing  to  retire  for  the 
night,  and  were  singing  a  plaintive  Methodist  hymn,  the  burden 
of  which  was  the  happiness  of  passing  over  Jordan.  They 
broke  off  as  we  rode  up  and  made  us  welcome.  The  gentlemen 
went  into  the  barn  to  see  the  horses  well  rubbed  down.  Veronica 
begged  to  be  shown  our  room,  and  allowed  to  go  to  bed,  for  she 
was  very  tired.  I  felt  as  if  I  did  not  wish  to  have  any  conversa 
tion  with  her,  and  remained  till  a  late  hour  on  the  porch,  talk 
ing  to  our  host's  family,  who  asked  innumerable  questions  about 
our  relationship  one  to  another,  our  family  history,  and  other 
particulars  of  private  life,  which  an  American  of  the  back-woods, 
who  knows  his  neighbors  all  by  heart,  desires  to  learn  of 
strangers ;  and  at  last  rinding  I  had  come  from  England  they 
turned  their  powers  of  interrogation  upon  Queen  Victoria,  who 
they  appeared  to  imagine  must  be  a  lady  with  whom  I  had  con 
siderable  personal  acquaintance.  Fortunately  I  knew  many 
anecdotes — some  of  them  drawn  from  private  sources — illustra- 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  335 

tive  of  the  good  sense,  industry,  and  domestic  virtues  of  her 
Majesty.  I  happened  to  have  an  English  postage-stamp  in  my 
pocket-book,  and  on  leaving  in  the  morning  I  stuck  it  on  a  card, 
and  presented  it  as  the  Queen's  likeness,  to  the  family.  They 
were  so  delighted  at  the  attention,  that  they  did  not  wish  that  I 
should  pay  any  bill ;  and  in  the  excitement  caused  among  us  by 
amusement  at  a  speech,  in  which  mine  host  told  me,  it  was  worth 
fifty  cents  any  day  to  have  my  company,  we  parted  from  Max 
and  Mr.  Parker  with  less  embarrassment  than  I  had  feared,  and 
turned  our  horses'  heads  towards  Clairmont,  with  Mr.  Morrisson 
for  our  companion  and  protector. 


336  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Afar  from  thee !  the  morning  breaks, 

But  morning  brings  no  joy  to  me  ; 
Alas  !  my  spirit  only  wakes 

To  know  I  am  afar  from  thee. 
In  dreams  I  saw  thy  blessed  face, 

And  thou  wert  nestled  on  my  breast ; 
In  dreams  I  felt  thy  fond  embrace, 

And  to  mine  own  thy  heart  was  pressed. 

REV.  GEO.  W.  BETHCNK. 

THERE  are  moments  in  a  man's  life  when  all  things  seem  against 
him.  Misfortunes  seldom  "  come  in  single  spies,"  and  prosperity 
sets  in  with  a  flood.  This  was  a  dark  hour  with  Max.  H« 
had  nothing  to  do  in  Rappahannock  but  to  ride  about  the 
country,  and  brood  over  the  situation  in  which  he  found  himself. 
Fortune  and  love  both  risked — both  lost.  Happiness  had  been 
in  his  power  once,  and  trifled  with,  had  passed  beyond  his  reach, 
as  it  appeared,  for  ever.  His  beautiful  Castleton  was  to  become 
the  inheritance  of  Veronica,  while  his  would  be  the  fate  that  he 
had  once  predicted  for  himself  in  a  moment  of  passionate  irrita 
tion  ;  he  would  be  sent  to  some  distant  colony  with  his  regiment, 
and  wear  out  his  days  in  garrison  inactivity.  But  the  loss  of 
Castleton,  severely  as  he  felt  it,  was  not  the  prominent  distress 
that  troubled  him.  He  was  a  young  man,  and  a  lover.  Castle 
ton  could  have  been  resigned  without  a  sigh,  if  by  that  disap 
pointment  he  could  have  purchased  the  attachment  of  Veronica. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  337 

I  do  not  believe  in  theories  of  compensation.  When  we  can 
bear  prosperity,  God  gives  it  unmixed  to  us,  and  when  trouble 
is  what  we  need,  disappointments  are  apt  to  succeed  each  other 
like  the  messengers  of  misfortune  that  came  to  Job.  We  talk 
vaguely  about  runs  of  good  fortune  or  of  evil — each  comes  as 
the  servant  of  God,  accomplishing  that  which  He  pleases,  and 
prospering  in  the  thing  whereunto  He  sends  it. 

The  life  of  Max  had  been  the  careless  life  of  a  young  man, 
with  little  purpose  beyond  the  pleasure  of  the  passing  moment. 
He  had  not  advanced  beyond  the  simplest  moral  of  the  book  of 
life,  that  fault  and  error  work  out  pain  and  punishment.  He  was 
about  to  pass  on  to  another  lesson.  He  was  to  learn  that  troubles 
(not  the  lineal  descendants  of  error),  often  meet  us  as  God's 
messengers  upon  the  path  of  life,  and  turn  our  feet  into  the  ways 
of  peace. 

As  he  paced  up  and  down  his  chamber,  long  after  Joe  Parker 
and  his  household  had  retired  for  the  night,  impatiently  reiterat 
ing  the  inquiry  why,  without  any  especial  faults  for  which  he 
could  reproach  himself,  he  had  been  brought  to  shame  and  loss, 
he  was  led  to  look  more  deeply  into  the  problems  of  life  than 
he  had  ever  had  occasion  to  do  in  days  of  carelessness  and  of 
prosperity. 

The  point  in  his  conduct  upon  which  his  mind  rested  with 
most  satisfaction,  was  his  determination  not  to  risk  Veronica's 
inheritance  of  Castleton.  Sometimes,  convinced  of  her  indif 
ference,  he  would  have  returned  to  England  at  once,  but  for  the 
suit  hanging  over  him  before  the  court  of  Charlestown.  Some 
time  the  thought  chafed  him,  that  if  he  could  have  been  with 
her,  his  silent  devotion  might  have  touched  her.  Sometimes  he 
was  glad  he  was  away,  that  he  might  not  see  other  men  atten 
tive  to  her. 

15 


338  OUR     COUSIN      VEKONICA. 

During  the  watches  of  the  night,  when  Fancy  fits  her  patterns 
on  the  woof  of  life,  schemes  rash  and  wild  as  the  adventures  of 
romance,  shaped  themselves  into  what  seemed  practicable.  Man 
is  Gulliver  in  Lilliput  by  night.  The  slender  threads  of  circum 
stance  that  bind  him  are  Lilliputian  cables  to  the  strength  of 
which  he  feels  himself  possessed — but  waking  he  finds  himself 
beyond  the  borders  of  the  Land  of  Giants,  and  the  first  difficulty 
that  looks  him  in  the  face  seems  like  the  maid  of  Brobdignag. 

He  passed  a  miserable  fortnight  at  Joe  Parker's,  where  the 
solace  provided  by  his  host  was  only  of  two  kinds,  whisky-toddv 
ai;d  tobacco,  and  when  he  found  they  were  refused,  the  resources 
of  his  hospitality  were  at  an  end.  Max  was  not  in  the  humor 
to  sit  talking  by  the  hour  on  the  porch.  To  the  great  astonish 
ment  of  Mr.  Parker,  who  would  have  "  run  a  mile  to  catch  a  horse 
to  ride  half  a  mile,"  he  took  a  fancy  to  long,  solitary  walks 
upon  the  hills,  among  the  rattlesnakes — hills  covered  by  the 
mountain  strawberry,  where  mountain  children  who  had  never 
heard  a  church  bell,  nor  had  seen  a  book  (unless  some  colporteur 
of  tracts  wandered  into  their  vicinity),  gathered  the  fruits  of 
nature's  garden,  and  brought  their  strawberries  down  the  moun 
tain  to  sell. 

He  wrote  many  letters  to  Veronica  and  destroyed  them,  and 
•8  a  great  events  from  little  causes  spring,"  only  a  sense  of  tho 
rarity  of  letter-paper,  when  lie  had  covered  his  last  sheet,  was 
the  cause  of  his  sending  her  at  length  a  finished  letter. 

Veronica  was  sitting  with  me  on  the  porch  at  Clairmont, 
when  the  boy  brought  up  the  bag  that  held  this  document.  I 
eagerly  opened  the  post-bag,  for  which  I  watched  day  after  day 
with  sickening  hope,  but  found  only  that  letter.  Veronica's 
hand  trembled  very  much  as  she  took  it,  and  I,  feeling  that  she 
must  wish  to  be  alone,  went  into  tho  house  and  left  her.  She 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  339 

did  not  open  it  upon  the  porch,  but  shortly  after  I  watched  her 
in  the  wood,  with  the  letter  lying  open  in  her  lap,  as  she  sat  on  a 
rock  under  one  of  the  great  oak  trees. 

Tyrell  was  at  Clairmont  that  evening,  but  whilst  I  talked  to 
him  as  he  sat  Avith  his  cigar  upon  the  upper  steps  of  the  porch, 
I  could  not  forget  Veronica.  In  any  moment  of  agitation  it 
soothed  me  to  be  with  Tyrell.  I  could  see  I  exercised  on  him 
a  corresponding  influence — a  sure  sign,  had  I  but  known  it, 
we  were  not  in  love ;  for  unacknowledged  love  is  always  feverish. 
It  agitates  its  possessor  and  it  irritates  its  object.  I  imagine  that 
the  pleasures  of  the  most  successful  courtship,  and  especially  the 
intercourse  of  lovers  immediately  before  the  declaration  of 
attachment,  are  far  outweighed  by  its  anxieties  and  pains.  Tyrell 
and  I  exercised  upon  each  other  no  such  disturbing  influence. 
On  the  contrary  his  voice  soothed  me,  his  opinions  strengthened 
me.  When  we  were  apart,  I  might  sometimes  disturb  myself 
by  reflections  on  the  reports  in  circulation  which  made  him  my 
admirer,  but  when  we  were  together  I  forgot  them.  I  found 
him  the  kind,  sympathizing  friend,  whose  influence  was  strength 
ening  and  refreshing,  who  showed  me  the  path  of  right,  because 
he  walked  in  it,  who  leaned  on  God,  and  invited  me  to  lean 
upon  Him.  The  only  safe  test  in  cases  where  we  half  suspect 
ourselves  or  others  of  attachment,  is  to  observe  the  nature  of  our 
personal  influences.  It  is  safer  than  any  deductions  drawn  from 
circumstances. 

The  evening  star  had  risen  after  a  day  of  weariness  and  heat, 
and  the  mellow  evening  light  that  flickered  through  the  trees 
lighted  me  upon  my  way,  as  I  went  in  search  of  Veronica.  I 
found  her  sitting  at  the  edge  of  an  old  quarry,  on  a  huge  frag 
ment  of  blasted  limestone.  Max's  letter  had  been  folded  up  and 


340  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

put  away,  for  Veronica  was  fiot  the  person  to  whet  the  appetite 
of  grief  or  love  which  "grow  by  what  they  feed  on." 

"How  long  is  Max  going  to  stay  in  the  mountains,  Veronica?" 
said  I,  not  knowing  very  well  what  other  question  to  ask  her. 

She  started.  "Not  very  much  longer,  I  imagine," she  replied. 
He  has  some  intention  of  going  to  the  Springs,  and  of  visiting 
Weir's  Cave,  and  the  Natural  Bridge,  as  I  have  recommended 
him." 

I  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  throwing  my  arms  round 

Veronica,  I  whispered,  "  Vera !  if  I  might  ask  what  that 

letter  contained !" 

She  looked  up  quickly.  "  Nothing  pleasant,  Molly,  and  yet 
something.  You  may  read  it  if  you  like."  She  drew  it  from 
her  dress  and  held  it  out  to  me.  u  I  am  going  to  the  house. 
Stay  here  and  read  it.  You  can  give  it  back  to  me  by  and 
by." 

She  went  away.  Not  with  the  elastic,  tripping  step  that  had 
been  once  one  of  the  graces  that  distinguished  her.  She  had 
grown  quiet  and  listless.  There  was  little  in  her  daily  life  to 
call  off  her  thoughts  from  hidden  troubles.  Her  face  was 
grave,  and  her  smile  was  fainter,  and  she  rallied  her  attention 
with  an  effort  when  anybody  talked  to  her.  But  these  were 
indications  of  the  state  of  things  unseen  that  only  watchful  love 
was  likely  to  detect,  and  no  such  tender  interest  waited  about 
her  path  and  bed  at  Clairmont.  No  one  there  loved  her  as  well 
I  did,  and  alas !  I  thought  too  much  of  my  own  position  with 
respect  to  Mr.  Howard,  to  have  been  the  friend  she  wanted  at  this 
crisis.  And  I  had  a  grudge  against  her  too,  for  Max's  sake.  I 
was  not  tender  to  the  wounded  spirit  of  my  cousin. 

I  opened  the  letter,  carelessly  written,  and  somewhat  blotted, 
as  everything  Max  wrote  always  was.  It  ran  thus : — 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  341 

"I  have  thought  of  little  else  than  our  conversation  at  Front 
Royal,  since  we  parted,  Veronica !  It  is  hard  for  a  man  to  resign  his 
dearest  hope — to  feel  that  he  stands  at  that  point  in  his  life,  where  two 
roads  meet,  the  one  leading  to  disappointment,  the  other  to  prosperity 
and  happiness,  and  deliberately  to  choose  between  them.  But  calm 
rellection  in  the  past  ten  days,  has  taught  me  my  duty.  No  question  of 
worldly  prosperity  need  come  between  us,  for  I  feel  that  a  disinterested 
and  deep  attachment,  is,  of  itself,  a  worthiness,  and  constitutes  a  claim 
upon  the  favorable  notice  of  its  object ;  but  I  can  no  longer  disguise  from 
myself  the  conviction  that  you  do  not,  and  may  never  love  me.  I  ask 
myself  if  the  follies  of  boyhood  and  the  unhappy  position  into  which  we 
have  been  forced,  must  outweigh  all  other  claims  that  I  could  make  to 
your  affection  ?  And  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  the  answer  comes.  I 
withdraw,  for  the  present,  all  pretensions  to  your  regard ;  I  resign  all 
claim  to  Castleton.  I  leave  you  free  to  choose  amongst  your  suitors. 
But,  Veronica,  if  I  can  bring  my  pride  down  to  my  fortunes,  I  shall 
enter  their  ranks.  Hereafter,  when  questions  of  property  can  be  no 
longer  affected  by  the  fortunes  of  my  suit,  it  may  seek  at  your  hand 
acceptance  or  rejection.  I  think  it  may.  I  cannot  be  quite  sure  it  will. 
I  think,  Veronica,  I  love  you  better  than  my  pride,  and  I  know  that 
unless  I  do,  I  am  only  worthy  of  your  rejection.  You  need  not  fear  me, 
therefore.  You  need  not  meet  me  ever  armed,  at  all  points,  and  never 
off  your  guard.  But  it  would  be  unworthy  of  my  manhood  if  I  resigned 
all  future  right  to  attempt  to  win  a  recognition  of  any  attachment.  I  will 
not  resign  all  hope,  until  more  has  passed  between  us  than  it  would  be 
generous  to  urge  upon  you,  before  the  expiration  of  the  year  after  my 
uncle's  death  has  ceased  to  attach  consequences  to  your  refusal.  Mean 
time,  I  shall  take  your  advice,  and  travel  through  Virginia,  unless  (is  it 
possible  that  this  might  be  ?)  some  word  from  you  should  reach  me  before 
the  14th  October." 

It  was  truly  a  lover's  letter,  with  all  its  mixed  ingredients  of 
hope  and  of  despair,  of  pride  and  feeling,  of  renunciation,  and 
reliance  on  the  power  of  a  strong  attachment  to  compel  good 
fortune. 


342  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  Ah  !  Veronica,"  I  said,  as  I  returned  it  to  her  that  evening, 
in  our  chamber,  "  is  there  nothing  I  may  say  from  you  to  him  ?' 

"  Nothing,  Molly,  except  that  he  is  doing  as  he  ought.  If  it 
be  a  sacrifice,  I  respect  him  and  admire  him  for  making  it." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  Veronica.  You  seem  to  me  dis 
posed  to  be  very  harsh  to  Max,  and  yet  there  are  moments  when 

Veronica,  if  all  obstacles  and  difficulties  were  removed, 

and  Max,  as  he  says,  were  your  suitor  at  this  moment,  I  believe 
you  do  not  know  whether  you  would  accept  him  or  refuse 
him." 

"  I  do  not  know.     You  are  right,"  she  said. 

"  Then,  Veronica,  you  are  not  sure  you  would  refuse  him  ?" 

"  You  have  no  right  to  ask  me  questions,"  she  replied. 

"  But,  Veronica,  is  it  not  loving,  if  you  care  for  him  enough 
not  to  be  quite  certain  you  should  refuse  him  if  he  renewed 
his  suit?" 

"Hush,  Molly!"  exclaimed  Veronica,  wringing  her  hands. 
"  It 's  bad  enough  to  have  a  treacherous  heart,  you  need  not 
tempt  me  with  suppositions  that  have  no  foundation,  and  ques 
tions  I  cannot  answer." 

I  sat  down  by  her  side,  and  put  my  arm  around  her,  and  said, 
"  May  I  not  tell  you  how  sincerely  he  loves  you  ?'' 

"No,  you  may  not,"  she  said.  "The  future  may  disprove  or 
confirm  my  doubts.  Meanwhile,  I  wish  to  be  left  entirely  to  my 
own  thoughts.  There  is  indelicacy  in  discussing  such  a  subject; 
and  allusions  and  suggestions  such  as  you  might  make,  would  do 
no  service  to  your  brother." 

I  was  silent.     She  resumed  presently — 

"It  would  naturally  be  a  great  disappointment  to  him  to  lose 
Castleton,  and  I  shall  not  know  what  to  do  with  it.  Governor 
Tyrell  has  promised  to  use  his  influence  with  Max,  to  make  him 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  343 

consent  to  a  more  suitable  arrangement.  My  present  object  is 
to  keep  my  cousin  William  from  being  the  possessor  of  tlie 
negroes  at  Oatlands.  I  could  not  feel  my  duty  Avas  performed 
if  1 1<3  obtained  possession  of  them  through  my  fault.  Molly,  did 
Ty roll  say  he  had  heard  from  Uncle  Christopher  ?  I  thought  I 
heard  him  saying  something  about  it  to  you  at  tea-time." 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  the  family  is  safe  in  Philadelphia — safe  and 
free.  They  are  able  to  earn  a  living  for  themselves,  and  their 
children  will  grow  up  to  be  free  men.  It  is  sweet  to  think  of  the 
benedictions  they  will  draw  down  by  their  prayers  on  those  who 
helped  them." 

"  True,"  said  Veronica.  ';  I  hope  they  will  be  very  happy  in 
their  new  condition.  Not  that  they  have  been  unhappy  hitherto 
— for  Aunt  Saph  was  the  best  friend  of  her  mistress,  and  every 
body  respected  Uncle  Christopher,  who  was  known  to  all  men, 
white  and  black,  in  the  community.  They  would  have  been 
happy,  without  change,  if  no  event  had  thrown  them  into  the 
hands  of  a  bad  master." 

"  They  are  better  off,  now,"  I  said.  "A  gentleman  in  Phila 
delphia  wrote  to  cousin  Tyrell,  that  it  was  delightful  to  see  the 
airs  of  self-importance  which  marked  their  appreciation  of  free 
dom — the  sense  of  the  duty  of  self-reliance  and  self-protection, 
which  seemed  suddenly  to  have  come  upon  them  in  middle  life, 
— their  naive  realization  of  their  obligations  and  responsibilities 
to  each  other  and  their  children,  which,  he  said,  spoke  volumes 
against  the  system  which  had  stunted  their  feelings.  They  had 
only  been  two  days  out  of  slavery  when  he  saw  them,  and  he 
said  it  would  rejoice  Tyrell's  heart  to  witness  their  enthusiasm  ; 
and  that  they  talked  of  little  else  than  him,  and  you,  and  Max ; 
and  that  he  would  let  us  know,  from  time  to  time,  how  they 
were 


344  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"That  one  good  deed  is  the  sole  pleasant  memory  of 
this  sad  season,"  said  Veronica.  "  Gibson  has  been  arranged 
with  about  Aunt  Saph  and  her  children.  His  reputation  is 
such,  that  he  dared  not  risk  a  quarrel  with  people  of  the  Tyrells' 
standing  in  the  community.  But  cousin  William  still  is  very 
angry." 

"  And  says,"  I  added,  "  that  if  he  should  get  Oatlands,  lie  will 
reclaim  Uncle  Christopher,  and  sell  him  south  to  pick  cotton." 

Veronica  shuddered,  and  closed  her  eyes.  I  think  she  \vus 
praying  that  she  might  never  be  under  the  necessity  of  refusing 
Max's  offer. 

I  did  not  care  to  write  to  him,  for  I  had  nothing  more  than 

O 

what  he  knew  to  tell  him ;  and  Veronica  seemed  so  sensitive  on 
the  subject  of  my  interference,  that  I  was  reduced  to  remember 
that  "  speech  is  silver,  but  silence  is  gold." 

So  Max  went  morning  after  morning  to  the  little  post  town, 
five  miles  from  Joel  Parker's  plantation,  where  on  more  than  one 
occasion  he  found  the  postmaster  in  his  harvest-field,  a  mile  from 
home,  with  the  mail  unsorted  in  his  pocket ;  and  though  lie  sat 
down  on  a  stump,  and  looked  the  letters  through  to  find  the  one 
for  which  Max  hoped,  it  was  not  there. 

"  I've  'most  a  mind  to  write  you  one  myself,"  lie  said,  "  'cause 
you  look  so  disappinted.  I  never  see  a  man  come  for  his  mail, 
and  look  like  that,  that  he  isn't  thinking  about  some  gal  or 
other.  Stick  close  and  brag  high,  and  you'll  get  her  yet,  I 
reckon." 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  345 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Then  let  us  cheerfu1  acquiesce, 
Nor  make  our  scanty  pleasures  less 

By  pining  at  our  state. 
And  even  should  misfortunes  come 
(I  here  wha  sit  hae  met  wi  some, 

An's  thankful  for  them  yet), 
They  give  the  wit  o'  age  to  youth, 

They  let  us  ken  oursel ; 

They  make  us  see  the  naked  truth, 

The  real  guid  and  ill. 

Tho'  crosses  and  losses 

Be  lessons  right  severe, 
There's  wit  there  ye'll  get  there 
Ye'll  find  no  other  where. 

BURNS. 

DAYS  came  and  went ;  veiy  monotonous  days  ;  for  the  bloom 
of  novelty  was  brushed  off  of  Virginia  life.  By  the  end  of 
September  I  had  had  only  one  letter  from  Max,  dated  at  Weir's 
Cave,  containing  nothing  but  guide-book  information  about 
petrifactions  and  stalactites,  and  saying  he  should  remain 
there  four  days  in  hopes  that  I  would  answer  his  letter,  but  as 
it  had  taken  a  week  to  travel  by  cross-roads  a  hundred  miles 
to  Clairmont,  and  as  I  had  nothing  pleasant  to  communicate,  I, 
not  unwillingly,  concluded  that  before  my  answer  could  travel 
back,  he  would  have  pushed  his  way  into  another  part  of  the 
country. 

Veronica  was  sad,  the  house  was  dull,  the  society  which  had 

15* 


346  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

been  so  merry  and  amusing  when  my  spirits  were  tuned  up  to 
the  key  note  of  its  romping  jollity,  was  miserably  discordant  to 
my  present  tone.  My  heart  sank  within  me.  Twice  a  week  the 
mail  came  in  from  Washington,  and  when  little  Tad  with  the 
post-bag  was  dispatched  to  Fighterstown,  my  heart  sickened  with 
the  hope  deferred,  that  some  news  from  Mr.  Howard  might? 
perhaps,  arrive.  Not  a  word,  however,  reached  me.  My  home 
letters  did  not  mention  him.  But  in  an  English  newspaper 
(as  I  scanned  every  line  of  its  columns,  in  a  vain  hope  that  the 
movements  of  his  regiment  might  be  recorded)  I  had  seen  the 
death  of  an  old  relative  of  his  who  had  promised  to  leave  him  a 
considerable  legacy. 

"  And  e'en  as  life  returns  upon  the  drowned 
Life's  hopes  returning  roused  a  throng  of  pains." 

After  seeing  this  I  grew  so  restlessly  wretched  that  it  seemed 
to  me  sometimes  as  if  the  suspense  were  more  than  I  could 
bear.  In  the  night  watches  and  in  the  hours  when  I  sat  sewing 
by  the  open  hearth,  heaped  with  light  brush  and  hickory,  even 
in  September,  the  voice  of  my  heart  cried  out  with  anguish  to 
my  brother,  and  begged  him  to  return  and  take  me  home. 
Then  I  had  vague  notions  that  Mr.  Howard  himself,  now  that 
the  independence  we  had  looked  forward  to  was  his,  might, 
perhaps,  arrive  and  claim  me.  Every  day  I  expected  Max. 
Every  afternoon  at  six  o'clock,  the  hour  when  any  arrival  from 
Simpson's  Depot  was  to  be  expected  at  Fighterstown,  I  stood 
upon  the  porch  straining  my  eyes  along  the  road  between  Clair- 
mont  and  Fighterstown,  or  if  I  rode  out  I  always  insisted  upon 
taking  the  road  to  the  depot.  In  vain  I  reasoned  with  7nyself 
that  I  had  not  the  smallest  right  to  hope  that  Mr.  Howard,  on 
the  strength  of  his  small  independence,  would  come  to  America 
in  search  of  me,  but 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  347 

Something  within  would  still  be  shadowing  out 
All  possibilities,  and  with  these  shadows 
My  mind  held  dalliance. 

I  blamed  myself  for  want  of  womanly  pride,  I  tired  to  acquire 
more  self-discipline,  but  every  afternoon  the  tide  of  Lope  was  at 
the  flood,  rising  and  swelling,  till  the  brief  autumn  twilight  faded 
into  grey  ness,  and  then  it  slowly  ebbed  and  left  my  life  bare 
as  a  sandy  shore.  Tyrell  came  frequently  to  see  us.  He 
was  capricious  in  his  attentions  and  his  visits.  Sometimes 
he  was  constantly,  on  slight  pretexts,  at  Clairmont,  on  other 
occasions  he  would  stay  away,  apparently  without  reason,  for  a 
week  at  a  time.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the  reports  that  went 
about  the  neighborhood,  that  he  was  paying  court  to  me,  I 
should  have  been  glad  to  see  him.  But  I  was  too  sick  at  heart 
to  feel  complacency  in  that  kind  of  homage.  And  whereas 
under  ordinary  circumstances  a  woman  secretly  feels  a  certain 
prepossession  in  favor  of  any  man  who  is  supposed  to  acknow 
ledge  her  merits,  and  whom  public  opinion  declares  her  suitor, 
the  contrary  is  the  case,  provided  she  is  embarrassed  by  an 
attachment  to  another  person.  So  when  cousin  Virginia  tor 
mented  me  by  insinuations  that  Tyrell  was  in  loye  with  me, 
assurances  not  borne  out  by  anything  that  came  under  my 
knowledge,  it  perplexed  and  worried  me.  I  began  to  be  uneasy 
in  his  piesence,  to  treat  him  no  longer  with  frank  cordiality. 
The  pleasant  relations  between  us  were  in  a  measure  broken  up. 
F  found  myself  on  the  lookout  for  anything  that  I  could  per 
suade  myself  might  be  his  faults.  The  geniality  of  Tyrell 
deserted  him.  The  merry  light  in  his  eyes  was  troubled.  When 
he  came  to  Clairmont  he  was  often  lost  in  reverie. 

"  See  how  earnestly  he  looks  at  you,"  said  cousin  Virginia. 
"Musi  not  a  man  bo  in  love  to  watch  you  so  closely?" 


348  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

And  Veronica — even  Veronica — would  listen  to  these  speeches, 
and  never  checked  them  in  her  quiet  way. 

One  afternoon  Tyrell  came  over  to  Clairmont ;  he  had  stayed 
away  ten  days,  and  everybody  had  missed  him. 

"  I  reckon  we  are  right  glad  to  see  you,  Tyrell,"  said  cousin 
Virginia  from  the  porch,  as  he  was  "  hitching "  his  grey  horse 
to  the  rack  under  the  trees.  "  Cousin  Molly  has  been  very  uneasy 
about  you." 

Tyrell  made  her  no  answer.  He  came  slowly  to  the  house, 
and  saluted  us  all  gravely.  lie  seemed  to  be  troubled  in  spirit, 
and  to  have  nothing  to  say.  By  and  by  he  found  himself  near 
me,  and  asked  me  in  a  low  voice  if  I  would  ride  with  him.  I  was 
delighted  at  the  opportunity  of  mounting  Angelo,  and  went  up 
stairs  to  put  on  my  riding-dress.  While  I  was  there  Veronica 
came  up  to  insist  that  I  should  take  her  riding-hat  with  feathers, 
because  she  said  my  own  was  less  becoming,  and  then  she 
pressed  me  to  take  her  riding-whip,  with  its  handle  of  carved 
ivory,  and  as  I  stood  dressed,  drawing  on  my  gloves,  she  abruptly 
threw  her  arms  round  me,  and  said : 

"Dear  Molly,  may  God  bless  you!"  and  then  as  suddenly 
turned  away  and  went  down  stairs.  • 

Tyrell  placed  me  upon  Angelo,  and  mounted  his  grey  horse. 

"Where  shall  we  go?"  said  he.  I  chose  the  road  leading  to 
the  depot ;  and  we  rode  slowly,  conversing  about  indifferent  things 
— the  burden  of  the  conversation  falling  upon  me,  for  Tyrell  was 
very  silent  till  we  found  ourselves  in  the  woods,  about  two  miles 
beyond  the  noisy,  muddy,  disorderly  streets  of  Fighterstown. 

"  Miss  Molly,"  said  Tyrell,  "  I  have  a  stoiy  to  tell  you."  I 
looked  down  with  apprehension  of  what  I  thought  was  at  hand. 
How  should  I  answer  him  ? 

"  I  am  not  happy,"  IIP  went  on  to  say,  "  and  for  the  last  six 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  349 

weeks  I  have  not  even  enjoyed  the  luxury  of  feeling  that  my 
unhappiness,  so  long  as  it  could  be  borne  silently,  concerned 
myself  alone.  I  think  you  Avill  know  why  I  speak  to  you  thus, 
when  I  tell  you  my  story.  It  is  an  old  legend — old  as  the  first 
pages  of  the  Hero-book,  and  older — old  as  the  first  poetry  which 
sprang  out  of  the  first  heart-sorrow." 
I  was  silent. 

Tyrell  turned  deeper  into  the  Avoods,  and  thus  began : 
"  A  German  writer  tells  us,  '  With  Renunciation  alone  can  the 
real  life  of  man  be  said  to  begin.'  This  is  a  story  of  renuncia 
tion  ;  it  is  the  story  of  the  pine  tree  of  the  forest,  which  shot  up 
with  no  luxuriant  foliage  clothing  its  rugged  trunk ;  and  when 
it  came  to  a  sense  of  what  the  beauty  was  that  it  had  not,  it 
prayed  the  vine  to  climb  up  its  rough  bark,  and  clothe  it  with 
her  green  broad  leaves,  and  make  it  fruitful  with  purple  clus 
ters  of  bloomy  grapes.  But  the  tendrils  of  the  vine  yearned 
towards  a  tree  with  broader  boughs  and  of  a  foreign  growth, 
and  she  clung  to  it,  and  graced  it  with  her  beauty.  It  is  the 
common  story  of  a  man  Avho  has  grown  up  without  anything  of 
womankind  to  cherish,  who  has  nourished  his  fancy  with  books, 
and  worshipped  ideal  loveliness,  suddenly  brought  into  contact 
with  her  who  realizes  all  his  dreams.  I  will  not.  say  that  the 
creature  of  his  fancy  is  all  real.  Perhaps  he  endows  her  with 
spoils  borrowed  from  the  pages  of  his  favorite  authors,  and 
brings  fancies  of  gossamer,  caught  up  during  the  hours  he  has 
slept  on  fairy  ground,  with  which  to  invest  reality.  But  when 
he  finds  her,  he  bows  down  to  her ;  and  if  he  loses  her,  '  the 
affection  that  in  this  world  will  ever  be  homeless,'  shrinks  back 
upon  himself.  It  wanders  ever  after  in  dry  places,  seeking  rest. 
It  comes  back  like  rejected  gifts,  to  shame  and  grieve  the  giver. 
Perhaps  womanhood  owes  something  of  its  loveliness  to  the 


350  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

pious  worship  of  the  men  who  have  bowed  down  to  it ;  perhaps 
nothing  can  attain  its  highest  beauty  tiil  viewed  by  the  light  of 
the  lamp  of  sacrifice.  The  hero  of  my  legend,  which  I  was 
beginning  to  forget,  was  not  a  hero,  but  a  child,  who  set  his 
desire  on  a  magic  rose,  which  grew  in  a  fair  garden  ;  but  it  blos 
somed  into  beauty  beyond  his  reach.  Day  after  day  he  inhaled 
its  magic  fragrance:  it  was  sweeter  to  him  than  all  the  other 
roses.  lie  saw  the  happy  bees,  those  'heavy-winged  thieves,' 
nestle  unreproved  among  its  leaves,  and  suck  its  liberal  sweet 
ness.  He  saw  a  rain-drop  steal  into  its  bosom ;  he  saw  the  sun 
beams  kiss  its  petals,  and  he  cried,  " why  am  I  alone  to  be 
deprived  of  this  inheritance  of  happiness?'  and  he  struggled  to 
be  tall  enough  to  reach  it — until  struggling,  he  tore  his  hands 
with  the  sharp  thorns  that  guarded  it,  and  with  the  rusty  nails 
that  fastened  it  to  the  wall  above  him.  And  then  he  sat  down, 
sore  and  wounded,  by  a  springing  fountain,  and  tried  to  forget 
his  disappointment.  But  it  was  a  charmed  rose,  and  had  a 
fairy  power  over  his  fancy.  In  vain  he  said  to  himself.  '  there  may 
be  other  roses  as  beautiful  as  this  in  the  garden  of  sweets  in  which 
I  find  myself:'  no  other  rose  was  half  as  fragrant  to  his  senses: 
he  gathered  none  of  them.  I  mean,"  said  Tyrell,  "  that  perhaps 
they  were  all  enchanted  roses — perhaps  they  all  grew  above  his 
reach  ;  but  he  never  had  the  heart  to  try  them,  lie  looked  up 
at  his  magic  bud,  and  had  no  heart  to  offer  them.  You  under 
stand  me  now,  I  think.  He  never  loved  any  more." 

I  understood  him  and  was  silent.  With  the  first  understand 
ing,  there  came  womanly  pique  for  the  fear  which  evidently 
moved  him,  that  I  had  lent  ear  to  the  '  reports,'  and  expected 
him  to  care  for  me. 

I  was  quite  silent  for  several  minutes,  during  which  it  seemed 
to  me  as  if  no  answer  upon  my  part  could  be  needed,  and  then 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  351 

I  looked  at  him  and  saw  the  anxious,  suffering  expression  of  his 
face,  and  all  my  pride  went  from  me. 

"  Cousin  Tyrell,"  I  said,  "  it  is  very  kind  of  you  to  tell  me 
that  story.  I  can  sympathize  with  it.  My  magic  rose-tree  grew 
in  England.  The  bud  I  wished  for  was  within  my  reach,  but  a 
sharp  east  wind  came,  and  wafted  it  too  high  for  me." 

"Thank  you,  dear  cousin  Molly,  for  this  frankness — for  the 
generous  frankness — which  has  made  us  for  ever  friends."  And 
Tyrell  stretched  out  his  hand  and  took  mine  in  his  warm,  kind 
grasp,  which  seemed  to  say,  what  he  did  not  suffer  to  transpire  in 
word  or  look,  "  Thank  God  you  have  not  suffered  injury  from 
me  ;"  and  my  heart  wanned  towards  Tyrell  in  his  loneliness ; 
almost  it  said, 

"  Might  I  but  be  the  wild-flower  on  the  wall 
Of  that  war-wasted  tower.  A  weed,  alas  ! 
But  with  a  perfume." 

"  Is  there  no  remedy  for  the  past,"  said  I  to  Tyrell. 

"None,"  he  replied.  "I  had  no  sister,  and  my  mother  died 
when  I  was  very  young.  I  have  lived  always  among  men, 
yearning  for  woman's  tenderness.  The  one  affection  which 
taught  me  all  a  woman's  love  might  be,  has  been  unfortunate. 
But  even  as  it  is,  I  would  not  part  with  it.  It  glows  with  new 
beauty  from  the  back-ground  of  sad  thoughts.  It  is  the  holier 
and  the  lovelier  from  a  sense  of  disappointment.  Do  not 
imagine,"  he  went  on  to  say,  "  that  I  will  waste  my  life  in 
weak  regret,  and  that  a  vain  appreciation  of  my  loss  will 
quench  my  courage.  If  God  sends  tears,  they  are  to  water 
a  soil  that  is  not  yet  sufficiently  fruitful.  He  from  whom 
God  has  taken  away  the  hope  that  children  and  wife  shall  eat  of 
his  bread  and  drink  of  his  cup,  should  carry  strength  and  glad 
ness  to  the  homes  and  hearts  of  others.  Gather  up  the  frag- 


352  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

ments  that  remain,  that  nothing  be  lost.  If  we  cast  the  bread 
of  our  feast  underfoot,  because  we  have  no  appetite  to  enjoy  it — 
if  we  spill  our  wine  of  gladness  because  our  heart  revolts  from 
it — we  despise  the  gifts  of  God,  and  waste  the  happiness  that  He 
intended  should  be  used,  either  for  ourselves  or  for  others.  There 
is  no  remedy  for  unhappiness,  that  I  know  of,  but  an  interest  in  the 
happiness  of  other  persons.  Work  was  the  boon  God  gave  to 
our  First  Father  when  he  turned  him  out  of  Paradise ;  and  the 
five  thousand  years  that  have  since  passed  have  given  disappoint 
ment  no  better  remedy." 

"  And  I  have  been  wasting  life  in  unreasonable  longings,"  I 
said  sadly,  "  while  you  are  so  courageous  and  so  loving,  so  full 
of  generous  endurance  and  endeavor — so  worthy  of  the  happi 
ness  that  you  say  is  denied  you." 

"There  is  truer  happiness  than  mere  good  fortune,"  replied 
Tyrell ;  "  as  I  read  it  in  a  review  the  other  day,  '  Man  is  not 
dependent  upon  mere  worldly  gifts  of  luck  in  life.  These  are 
possible,  not  promised.  Happy  he  who  can  rule  over  them ; 
but  doubly  unhappy  he  who  cannot.'  '  God  shall  choose  our 
inheritance  for  us,'  says  the  Psalmist.  I  accept  my  lot  in  life, 
though  its  bleakness  is  discouraging.  I  shall  not  attempt  to 
grow  fruits  and  flowers  on  it.  I  will  dig  into  the  bowels  of  the 
earth,  and  strike,  perhaps,  some  hidden  ore." 

"  But  this  idea  of  never-ending  work — not  for  dear  home's 
sake,  but  only  to  be  thrown  into  the  common  fund  of  human 
effort — seems  to  me  so  profitless  and  wearisome." 

"  Would  you  rather,  then,  '  have  leisure  to  die  of  love  ?'  as  my 
reviewer  says,"  asked  Tyrell.  "  You  did  not  mean  tltat,  cousin 
Molly.  And  yet  I  dare  say  a  woman  yearns  for  her  own  garden 
spot ;  while  I,  if  I  am  never  to  have  children  and  wife,  thank 
God  for  other  people's  wives  and  children,  on  whose  welfare  I 


OUR     COUSIN     VEEONICA.  353 

can  bestow  that  money,  time,  and  interest  I  would  have  given  to 
my  own.  As  for  rest — I  fear  it.  My  heart  would  be  like  an  old 
sword  in  an  old  scabbard, 

And  eat  into  itself,  for  lack 

Of  something  else  to  hew  and  hack. 

4  "Work  while  it  is  yet  day — the  night  cometh  when  no  man  can 
work,'  is  the  trumpet-call  of  the  Life-angel  sounding  in  my  ears 
the  signal  for  ihe  battle.  '•N'avons  nous  pas  toute  Veternite 
pour  nous  reposer  T  said  Arnaukl  to  Nicolle,  the  Port  Royalist ; 
and  at  present  I  feel  as  if  I  dreaded  any  rest  short  of  that  deep 
repose  that  broods  over  eternity.'  " 

"You  soar  above  my  ordinary  range  of  motive  and  of 
thought,"  I  said.  "  But  I  can  feel  it  would  be  glorious  if  the 
words  of  the  Saviour  could  be  written  on  our  tombstones :  '  I 
have  glorified  thee  upon  the  earth.  I  have  finished  the  work 
which  thou  gavest  me  to  do.' " 

"  That  Thou  gavest  me!"  repeated  Tyrell.  "There  is  comfort 
in  that  thought.  Work  or  happiness  are  alike  his  gift.  '  There 
is  no  want  to  them  that  fear  Him  ;'  and  He  denies  our  reason 
able  wishes  for  love's  sake  when  disappointments  come.  Our 
lesson  in  trouble  is  taught  us  by  George  Herbert : 

Thy  Father  could 

Quickly  effect  what  thou  dost  move ; 
For  He  is  Power;  and  sure  He  would — 

For  He  is  love." 

"  It  seems  so  strange  that  lie  does  not  give  us  all  happiness," 
L  said.  "It  would  be -so  easy  for  God  to  make  every  body 
happy,  even  in  this  world." 

Tyrell  laid  his  hand  upon  Angelo's  silken  mane,  and  a  beauti 
ful  lio-lit  of  love  and  trust  was  in  his  face  as  he  said  confidently, 


354  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  Interpret  His  dealings  by  His  character,  not  His  character 
by  his  dealings  :  they  are  not  fully  known  to  us.  '  Rejoice  in  the 
Lord  alway' — '  Thank  Him  for  an  unknown  blessing.' " 

He  seemed  to  be  speaking  to  himself,  forgetful  of  my  pres 
ence  ;  but  a  moment  after,  turning  his  face  full  to  mo  with  a 
smile  of  hope  and  trust  upon  his  lips,  he  said  gently, 

"Tarry  thou  the  Lord's  leisure,  be  strong  and  he  shall  com 
fort  thine  heart,  and  put  thou  thy  trust  in  the  Lord." 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  355 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

God  sends  country  lawyers,  and  other  wise  fellers, 
To  drive  the  world's  team  when  it  gits  in  a  slough, 
So  John  P 
Robinson,  he 
Says  the  world  will  go  right  if  he  hollers  out  "  gee  !" 

J.  R.  LOWELL  :     The  Biglow  Papers. 

TYRELL  was  greatly  more  cheerful  after  our  conversation. 
Pleasant  relations  were  established  between  him  and  me.  "We 
understood  each  other,  and  I  found  the  happiness  of  having 
such  a  friend  to  draw  my  thoughts  out  of  myself — to  "  point  to 
brighter  worlds,  and  lead  the  way."  All  social  questions  inte 
rested  Tyrell.  My  own  range  of  reading  and  of  thought  was 
'  confined  exclusively  to  Belles  Lettres  and  to  Art,  and  to  a  taste 
.'for  what  appealed  to  the  fancy.  But  Tyrell's  tastes  all  pointed 
to  the  real  and  true.  Noble  actions  inspired  him,  social  pro 
blems  interested  him.  If  he  received  a  new  idea,  he  wanted 
instantly  to  set  it  working.  lie  took  his  place  amongst  the  little 
jand  who  labor  in  the  rough  ploughed  field  of  life,  waiting  for 
;he  harvest.  And  it  seemed  to  mo  as  if  nobody  about  him 
understood  him  as  well  as  I  did,  and  that  my  sympathy,  though 
;o  imperfect,  was  a  solace  to  him. 

All  the  gentlemen  of  the  neighborhood  were  full  of  excitement 
ibout  politics.  All  Americans  are  fluent,  and  all  natives  of  the 


356  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Southern  States  have  an  extraordinary  familiarity  with  the  opera 
tions  of  Government.  It  seems  as  if,  like  citixens  of  Ancient 
Rome,  leaving  the  cultivation  of  their  soil  to  slaves,  they  busied 
themselves  in  keeping  watch  over  the  interests  of  the  Republic,  and 
this  is  very  probably  the  reason  why  the  Southern  States  enjoy  a 
political  influence,  vastly  out  of  proportion  to  the  number  of 
their  voters,  which  are  enormously  outnumbered  by  the  voters 
of  the  North.  The  interest  felt  in  measures  of  the  General 
Government,  is  lukewarm  in  the  Northern  States,  confining 
itself  to  those  whose  interests  may  become  affected  by  particular 
bills,  but  in  Virginia  every  man  makes  the  proceedings  in 
Congress  his  own  concern ;  and  bills  are  discussed  in  coteries, 
upon  the  tavern-stoops,  or  on  the  porches  of  country  houses,  or  at 
the  post-office,  with  more  vehemence  and  enthusiasm  by  country 
gentlemen,  than  they  would  put  into  any  affairs  of  their  own. 
There  is  an  esprit  da  corps  throughout  the  South  when  certain 
questions  are  attacked,  which  supplies  the  place  of  patriotism, 
a  virtue  in  which,  in  its  largest  sense,  Americans  are  very, 
deficient. 

Now  Tyrell  was  not  a  politician  of  this  stamp,  and  though  he 
could  sit  upon  the  porch  at  Clairmont,  or  Stonehenge,  with  hia* 
cigar,  and  hold  his  part  by  the  hour,  in  a  political  argueficationj 
it  was  without  the  personal  excitement  of  his  neighbors,  for  as 
he  said  to  me,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  "  Our  America* 
government  is  never  in  advance  of  the  people.  Nor  does  thtf| 
press  do  more  than  keep  up  with  public  opinion.  The  people^ 
have  the  bit  in  their  teeth,  and  guide  the  government.  The  coun-| 
try  must  go  on,  no  matter  who  may  hold  the  reins  at  Washing-, 
ton.  The  worst  government  will  not  injure  a  prosperity  which 
depends  solely  upon  material  advantages.  I  am  only  concerned 
when  I  think  of  our  foreign  relations,  and  happily  it  has  always 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  357 

been  the  policy  of  every  government  to  put  its  best  man  at 
their  head." 

The  church,  too,  and  religion,  were  very  frequently  discussed, 
but  I  soon  found  out  that  Tyrell  was  a  Christian  on  a  different 
pattern  from  the  persons  who  surrounded  him.  While  they 
argued  upon  doctrines,  and  discussed  the  legislative  proceedings 
of  Conventions,  and  strained  at  gnats  in  matters  of  amusement, 
and  swallowed  enormous  camels  in  the  practices  of  daily  life, 
Tyrell  sat  commonly  silent. 

"  Christianity,"  he  said  to  me,  one  day,  "  has  a  double  aspect. 
It  is  individual  and  social.  Individual  Christianity,  earnest,  but 
narrow-minded  because  it  has  cut  itself  oft*  from  the  sympathies 
by  which  God  meant  it  to  be  nourished,  is  illustrated  by  many 
beautiful  examples  in  our  community,  but  social  Christianity, 
which  hastens  the  coining  of  the  day  of  the  Lord,  which  weaves 
its  net  around  all  human  relations,  which  recognizes  the  claims 
of  brotherhood,  which  never  says,  "  am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ?" 
which  knows  Christ  died  for  all,  and  knowing  that  truth  acts 
upon  it — has  not '  begun  to  begin,'  as  our  Virginians  say,  to  hide 
its  leaven  amonp-st  us." 

O 

It  was  in  hearing  Tyrell  talk  thus  that  I  began  to  find  a  thou 
sand  new  thoughts,  and  new  interests,  stirring  within  me.  I 
began  to  recognize  new  obligations.  I  desired  to  search  into 
things  of  which  I  had  not  thought  before. 

The  trial  of  Max,  who  fired  on  the  rioters,  and  of  the  rioters 
who  assaulted  Max,  was  appointed  to  be  held  in  the  October 
court,  at  Charlestown.  Max  had  not  returned.  About  a  week 
before  the  day  appointed,  notice  was  served  on  him  to  appear  at 
that  same  court,  and  to  show  cause  why  William  Williams,  Esq., 
,  of  Clarke  county,  should  not  take  possession  of  the  estate  of  Oat- 


358  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

lands,  together  with  the  negroes  belonging  to  the  personal  estate 
of  Thomas  Lomax,  Esq.,  deceased. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?"  I  said,  to  Tyrell,  to  whom 
1  now  always  turned  for  advice  or  sympathy. 

"  It  means  what  I  have  for  some  time  past  feared,"  he  said, 
"  that  Mr.  William  Williams  claims  Oatlands,  which  your  brother 
inherits  from  Mr.  Lomax,  because  your  brother  is  an  alien,  and 
cannot  hold  real  estate  in  Virginia.  The  negroes,  who  are 
personal  property,  he  claims  in  virtue  of  that  clause  in  the  will, 
which  says  the  negroes  shall  in  no  case  be  separated  from  the 
landed  property." 

"  And  what  will  then  remain  for  Max  ?"  I  cried. 

"  Nothing,"  he  answered,  "  except  some  old  furniture  in  the 
house  now  inhabited  by  the  overseer,  at  Oatlauds." 

"  And  how  would  it  be  settled  if  Max  had  offered  himself  to 
Veronica,  and  had  been  refused  ?'' 

"  Will  Williams  would  have  had  this  estate,  and  Castleton 
would  have  been  sold  and  divided  between  Max  and  Veronica." 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  Max  knew  this  before  he  went  away  ?" 
I  answered. 

" I  cannot  tell,"  said  Tyrell.  "Jake  Gibson,  who  has  quar 
relled  with  Will  Williams,  and  is  anxious  at  present  to  curry 
favor  with  me,  put  the  idea  into  my  head  about  three  weeks . 
since,  by  telling  me  that  Williams  had  threatened  Max  with  such 
a  step,  and  offered  him  a  compromise,  while  he  was  too  drunk 
to  know  what  he  was  about,  the  day  Max  knocked  him  down  in 
Fighterstown." 

"  I  wonder  if  Max  understood  what  he  said  ?" 

"  I  imagine  not  One  pays  so  little  attention  to  what  a 
drunken  man  may  say.  Your  brother  would  not  be  likoly  to  un- 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  359 

del-stand  his  vague  allusion  to  a  law  of  doubtful  application,  which, 
we  have  seldom  occasion  to  remember,  and  it  was  Williams's 
policy,  of  course,  to  keep  his  intentions  dark  as  long  as  possible. 
My  father  does  not  think  that  Williams's  claim  is  certain,  and  did 
not  expect  it  to  be  brought  so  soon,  but  we  should  have  sent  a 
warning  to  Max,  if  we  had  known  where  to  direct  to  him,  and 
have  been  hoping  for  his  return  from  day  to  day." 

"  Oh,  if  we  only  knew,"  I  cried,  "  where  a  letter  would  find  him!" 

This  conversation  took  place  as  the  evening  w-as  growing  dusk. 
We  were  sitting  on  the  porch,  and  as  I  said  this,  little  Tommy 
Tad  stole  up  the  steps  with  his  bare  feet,  and  held  before  my 
eyes  the  post-bag.  I  opened  it.  It  contained  a  letter  from 
Max.  lie  said  he  should  be  at  Joel  Parker's  the  night  after 
he  wrote,  and  on  the  loth  of  October,  would  be  at  Clairmont. 

I  read  the  letter  aloud  to  Tyrell,  and  then  exclaimed. 

"  The  court  is  to  begin  on  the  day  after  to-morrowr,  the  14th 
of  October." 

"  I  will  send  Diggory  on  my  horse  into  the  mountain.  He  can 
ride  from  here  to  Parker's  in  a  day  on  my  grey  steed.  Black 
Mike  will  bring  your  brother  down  by  the  afternoon  of  the  1 4th. 
Don't  cry,  cousin  Molly.  It  may  not  be  so  bad,  after  all," 
Tyrell  said  soothingly. 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  Veronica  knew  this  ?"  I  cried,  "  Per 
haps perhaps  she  would  send  him  a  note  or  message  if  I 

explained  to  her  all  the  loss  that  her  continued  unkindness  will 
entail  upon  my  brother." 

Tyrell  rose  and  looked  suddenly  with  interest  at  a  wasp's  nest 
in  one  of  the  pilasters. 

"  I  never  observed  that  nest  before,"  he  said.   "  Yes,  perhaps  so." 

"  I  shall  go  and  ask  her,"  I  said.  "  Would  it  be  improper  ? 
1  Oh  !  cousiii  Tyrell,  give  me  your  advice." 


360  OUR      COUSIN      VEROXICA. 

I  looked  up  in  his  face,  and  tlicre,  by  the  light  of  the  moon 
that  was  just  rising,  I  read  something  that  I  had  not  anticipated. 
I  read  the  secret  of  his  life — the  interpretation  of  his  legend. 

"  You  had  better  ask  somebody  else,"  he  said  ;  each  word  came 
slowly.  "  I  am  not  the  proper  person  to  advise  you  in  this  matter." 

I  turned  away,  and  he  went  down  the  steps.  I  had  hardly 
the  heart  to  go  to  Veronica,  and  ask  her  to  do  for  my  brother's 
sake  what  would  crush  all  hope  out  of  the  heart  of  cousin 
Tyrell. 

I  went  up  into  our  chamber  and  threw  myself  on  my  bed, 
in  a  passion  of  tears.  Before  I  could  compose  myself  or  think 
what  I  had  better  do,  Veronica  came  hastily  up  stairs. 

"  Molly,"  she  cried,  "  what  do  you  wish  ?  Tyrell  told  me — 
Why,  Molly,  what  is  the  matter  ?" 

"  What  did  Tyrell  tell  you  ?" 

"  Merely  that  you  wanted  me ;  and  had  gone  up  stairs  in 
search  of  me.  I  thought  something  was  the  matter  by  the  way 
lie  looked.  What  is  it  Molly  ?" 

"  It  is  this,  Veronica,"  I  said,  "  that  Max  is  on  the  eve  of 
being  ruined  for  your  sake.  It  is  that  lie  Avill  lose  all  his  inheri 
tance  if  you  reject  his  suit."  And  I  explained  it  to  her. 

"  Oh !  Veronica,  write  him  a  little  note,  and  tell  him  it  is  not 
too  late.  Tell  him  you  will  love  him  again  if  he  comes  back  to 
you." 

I  threw  myself  upon  her  neck,  and  said  these  words  in  a 
whisper. 

Veronica  caught  her  breath  with  nervous  agitation,  and  trem 
bled  so  much  that  she  put  me  from  her  and  sat  down. 

She  sat  silent  for  some  minutes,  shading  her  face.  It  was 
dark,  for  the  closed  blinds  kept  out  the  moonshine. 

Suddenly  Mary  Louisa  came  up  the  stairs,  and  said  : — 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  361 

"  Miss  Molly,  Mas'r  Tyrell  want  'know  if  you'se  got  dat  letter 
ready  ?" 

As  she  opened  the  door,  a  draft  of  wind  blew  open  one  of 
the  green  blinds.  Veronica  started  up  as  if  pierced  by  a  sudden 
arrow. 

"  No,  Molly,"  she  said,  standing  up,  "  I  have  tried,  I  have 
examined  my  feelings  before  God.  I  can  send  your  brother  no 
message  nor  letter." 

"  Veronica,"  I  cried,  "  answer  me  one  word  further.  Had 
you  rather  that  he  did  not  come? Answer  me,  Vero 
nica  !" 

':  lie  must  do  as  he  likes,"  she  said,  and  left  me.  It  was  use 
less  to  write  to  Max.  I  had  nothing  satisfactory  to  tell  him. 
After  five  minutes'  consideration,  I  went  down  stairs  to  Tyrell.  He 
was  waiting  by  the  porch,  mounted  upon  Angelo,  his  object  being 
to  ride  to  Stonehenge,  and  bring  back  Diggory  to  Clairmont, 
to  ride  his  own  grey  charger  into  the  mountains  of  Rappahan- 
nock — to  ride  him  nearly  to  death,  perhaps — that  horse  which 
I  knew  he  suffered  no  person  but  himself  to  mount,  and  on 
which,  it  sometimes  seemed  to  me,  he  had  concentrated  the 
tender  affections  that  no  woman,  child,  or  infirm  parent  called 
forth  from  him. 

He  held  out  his  hand  in  silence  for  the  note  from  Veronica. 

"  She  has  not  written,"  I  said,  "  nor  have  I  any  idea  of  what 
she  feels  for  Max.  I  cannot,  therefore,  write  him  anything  satis 
factory.  Is  it  necessary  to  do  more  than  send  this  notice  from 
Will  Williams  ?  I  know  not  what  to  write  to  him." 

'- 1.  will  write  to  him  myself,"  he  said.    "  Good  bye." 

His  face  was  pale  in  the  moonlight.  He  turned  the  pony's 
head,  and  went  slowly  through  the  intricacies  of  the  darkening 

16 


362  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

avenue.  But  the  moment  he  was  ou  the  highway,  he  mended 
his  pace;  and  I  stood  on  the  porch  at  Clairmont,  listening  to  the 
patter  of  the  hoofs  of  Angelo,  till  the  echo  died  away  as  he 
neared  Fighterstown. 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  363 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Such  is  the  fortune  that  I  have, 
To  love  them  most  that  love  me  least, 
And  to  my  pain  to  seek  and  crave 
The  thing  that  other  hath  possessed. 
So  thus  in  vain  always  I  serve, 
And  others  have  that  I  deserve. 

SIR  THOMAS  WYATT. 

THE  relations  of  Max  with  Veronica  became  the  talk  of 
Fighterstown.  Groups  gathered  on  the  tavern-steps,  and  in  the 
principal  stores  along  the  street,  and  in  the  post-office,  put  up 
their  feet,  cocked  back  their  hats,  tipped  up  their  chairs,  spit 
their  tobacco-juice,  and  talked  over  it.  Gentlemen  rode  over  to 
their  neighbors',  sat  in  the  porches,  and  discussed  it. 

When  "  time  shall  be  no  longer,"  we  shall  know  what  sum 
of  human  existence  was  wasted  in  unprofitable  talk  over  the 
affairs  of  Max  and  Veronica. 

Where  was  he  ?  What  did  it  mean  ?  Had  she  given  him 
the  mittens  ?  (as  they  called  it.)  What  were  the  rights  of  the 
story  ? — and  whose  were  the  wrongs  ? 

Tyrell,  who  came  back  to  Clairmont  about  daylight,  and  who 
rode  over  to  Winchester  to  lay  the  case  before  two  eminent 
lawyers,  whom  his  father  wished  him  to  retain  on  behalf  of  Max, 
was  beset  with  questions.  One  man  stopped  him  as  he  was  ford 
ing  the  Opeccan,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  river,  with  the  water 
up  to  his  saddle-girths,  began  a  searching  cross-examination. 


364  OUK      COUSIN      VEROKICA. 

The  next  morning,  October  14th,  the  anniversary  of  the  death 
of  cousin  Lomax,  the  household  rose  up  before  the  red  sun  came 
glowing  over  the  mountains,  ushering  in  a  ripe  Indian  summer 
day.  Before  we  had  had  breakfast  the  lawyers  from  "Winchester 
rode  up,  upon  their  way  to  Charlestown,  mounted  upon  handsome 
horses,  with  their  papers  and  briefs  in  saddle-bags,  which,  as 
they  ate,  they  put  under  the  table. 

As  soon  as  the  meal  was  over  they  handed  us  into  the  carriage. 
Veronica  and  I,  Tyrell  and  Mr.  Morrisson,  were  to  go  over  to 
Charleslown.  It  was  possible  we  might  be  called  as  witnesses, 
and  they  smiled  at  each  other  as  they  thought  of  the  delicate 
nature  of  our  evidence.  Veronica  might  be  called  upon  to 
testify  that  she  had  or  had  not  refused  the  offer  of  Max,  and 
cross-examination  might  bring  out  for  the  amusement  of  the 
court  all  the  particulars  of  a  love-story. 

One  of  these  gentlemen  had  had  a  few  minutes'  conversation  with 
Veronica  upon  the  porch,  before  we  got  into  the  carriage.  She 
was  pale  and  flushed  by  turns.  York  and  Lancaster  contended 
in  her  cheeks.  She  wore  a  white  chip  bonnet,  and  a  lilac  muslin 
dress,  and  took  her  red  shawl  folded  on  her  lap  in  the  carriage. 
Tyrell  rode  Angelo,  who  notwithstanding  his  exertions  of  the  day 
before,  seemed  fresh,  but  Tyrell  looked  worn  out  and  miserable. 

After  driving  from  sunrise  to  ten  o'clock,  over  an  odious  road, 

O  ' 

\slu-re  now — by  grace  of  Irishmen — there  runs  an  excellent  new 
turnpike,  Uncle  Israel  drew  his  horses  up  before  the  principal 
tavern  in  Charlestown.  The  person  who  opened  the  carriage- 
door  for  us  was  Max.  Diggory  had  done  his  errand  faithfully. 
Leaving  Clairmont  about  sunrise,  he  had  ridden  sixty  miles  by 
sunset,  and  it  was  a  relief  to  hear  Max  telling  Tyrell  with  some 
eagerness,  that  the  grey  horse  had  not  looked  the  worse  for  his  long 
journey.  Max  had  mounted  Mike,  and  had  ridden  sixty  miles  in 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  365 

time  to  reach  Charlestown  two  hours  after  sunrise.    He  had  <K>ne 

O 

over  to  Stonehenge  at  once,  where  the  old  Governor  had  "  posted 
him  up "  in  his  own  business,  and  had  accompanied  him  to 
Charlestown  after  breakfast,  where  they  had  been  waiting  in  the 
street  looking  out  for  our  arrival.  Max  looked  as  rouo-h  as  a 

O  O 

back-woods-rnan,  with  a  full,  handsome  beard,  and  a  slouched  hat 
shading  his  sunburnt  cheeks,  and  leaving  his  forehead  fair  when 
he  removed  it  at  sight  of  Veronica.  His  appearance  was  greatly 
Americanized,  and  I  thought  that,  in  spite  of  the  stains  of  tan 
and  travel  upon  his  dress  and  face,  he  had  never  looked  more 
handsome. 

He  helped  us  from  the  carriage  in  silence.  Veronica  flushed 
scarlet,  and  another  blush  rose  burning  on  the  traces  of  the  first, 
as  she  caught  Tyrell's  sad  eyes  looking  at  her.  I  saw  him  too. 
I  was  almost  more  interested  in  him  than  I  was  in  Max  and 
Veronica. 

We  went  up  to  the  room  labelled  the  "  Ladies'  Parlor."  A 
large  square  room,  with  a  musty  smell  about  it,  ornamented  with 
portraits  of  wooden-looking  men  and  women,  staringly  like  the 
people  they  were  meant  for  I  am  sure,  but  looking  as  if  they 
had  been  painted  after  lay  figures  and  not  from  living  models. 
There  was  a  side-board,  and  a  pitcher  of  fresh  water,  a  table 
with  an  empty  lamp  upon  it,  and  a  Bible,  such  as  is  supplied  to 
every  room  in  inns  by  the  Bible  Society.  There  were  some 
queer  old  gim-cracks  on  the  fire-place,  a  piano,  covered  with  a 
table-cloth,  a  horse-hair  sofa,  and  a  dozen  Windsor  chairs.  A 
small  door  opened  on  a  balcony,  overhung  with  a  grape-vine, 
witli  rich  clusters  of  ripe  fruit.  Veronica  Avent  out  upon  this 
balcony,  and  I  turned  to  my  brother.  The  lawyers  were  in  the 
room,  and  they  were  talking  to  him.  I  did  not  dare  to  inter 
rupt  them. 


366  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

I  heard  him  say  distinctly, 

"  No,  gentlemen,  Mr.  Williams  is  not  entitled  to  Oatlands  by 
the  terms  of  the  will.  I  have  not  made  any  such  proposal  to 
Miss  Lomax  as  the  will  requires  me  to  do  within  a  year  after 
the  decease  of  her  uncle." 

"  Just  tell  me  Avhat  this  to-do  is  about  ?"  said  a  stranger, 
joining  the  conversation. 

The  stranger  had  considerable  political  influence  ;  and  one  of 
the  lawyers,  who  was  -a  candidate  for  the  legislature,  explained 
to  him  the  business,  going  into  all  the  particulars  (for  each 
man's  business  is  every  man's  on  such  occasions  in  Virginia). 
He  told  him  how  old  Tom  Lomax  had  left  Captain  Mandeville 
his  English  estate,  provided  he  married  Miss  Lomax  within  the 
year  that  was  expiring,  and  how  the  Oatlands  property  in  that 
event  was  settled  upon  her,  and  on  her  children,  and  old  Mrs. 
Williams,  or  her  heirs,  were  to  receive  a  legacy.  How,  if 
Miss  Lomax  refused  the  captain,  the  Oatlands  property  and 
negroes  were  to  go  to  Mrs.  Williams  or  her  heir,  and  Cas- 
tleton  was  to  be  sold  and  divided  between  Max  and  Veronica. 
He  explained  how,  if  Captain  Mandeville  made  no  offer  of  mar 
riage,  as  appeared  to  be  the  case,  he  retained  Oatlands  and  the 
negroes  under  the  will,  and  Miss  Lomax  had  the  English  prop 
erty  ;  and  finally,  how  Mr.  William  Williams  laid  claim  in  this 
event  to  Oatlands,  on  the  ground  that  an  alien  could  not  hold 
landed  estate  in  Virginia ;  and  claimed  the  negroes  on  the  clause 
in  the  will  which  said  they  should  in  no  event  be  separated  from 
the  landed  property.  Several  strange  gentlemen  gathered 
round  to  listen  to  this  information,  and  being  well  primed  with 
the  main  facts,  retired  below  into  the  bar-room,  to  be  the  centre 
of  a  knot  of  men,  sipping  cool  drinks,  and  talking  over  the 
matter. 


OUR      COUSIN     VERONICA.  367 

The  lawyers  continued  to  converse  with  Max.  I  pulled  him 
by  the  sleeve. 

"  What  do  you  want,  Molly  ?"  he  said ;  and  the  lawyers 
paused  to  know  what  I  could  want  with  him.  They  were  inte 
rested  in  the  case,  which  was  a  novel  one ;  and  of  course  I  could 
not  tell  him,  when  they  all  paused  with  an  interrupted  look,  that 
I  wanted  him  to  go  on  to  the  balcony,  and  talk  to  Veronica.  I 
did  whisper  something  to  this  effect  at  last,  and  he  went  out,  but 
Veronica  received  him  very  coldly.  He  could  not  win  any 
encouragement  on  which  he  dared  to  speak.  He  came  back  in 
a  few  minutes,  and  said, 

"  It  will  not  do,  Molly ;  and  listen,"  he  added :  "  I  forbid  you 
to  speak  to  her  about  it,  I  will  not  have  her  interfered  with. 
She  knows  how  devotedly  I  love  her ;  and  knowing  my  heart  as 
she  does,  and  the  position  in  which  I  am  placed,  this  is  a  case  in 
which  she  must  make  the  first  advances." 

He  went  down  into  the  street ;  he  went  into  the  court-house, 
where  his  case  about  the  riot  at  Clairmont  was  called  up,  and 
talked  over,  and  defended,  and  witnesses  examined ;  and  little 
dogs  ran  about  the  court,  and  got  between  the  legs  of  the 
judges;  and  the  counsel  made  a  great  display  of  eloquence, 
indulging  largely  in  stale  similes — the  orator's  cheap  tinsel — 
and  they  stuck  their  fingers  through  their  hair,  till  they  looked 
as  if  they  had  seen  ghosts.  Max  told  me  afterwards  that  it  was 
a  vastly  more  animated  scene  than  the  sleepy  decorums  of  West 
minster  Hall.  Men  sat  packed  together,  listening  and  chewing- 
tobacco  ;  and  the  plash  in  the  spittoons'  alone  interrupted  the 
eloquence  with  which  the  case  was  argued ;  and  Tyrell  and  his 
father  gave  evidence,  and  the  judges  wagged  their  heads ;  and 
their  private  opinion  was  known  to  be,  that  the  merits  of  this 
case  depended  a  good  deal  on  the  result  of  that  other  one 


368  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

coming  up  for  decision  the  next  day :  that  should  it  he  decided 
that  the  slaves  belonged  to  Mr.  Williams,  it  was  a  case  of  abduc- 
tion  of  negroes,  which  justified  a  certain  amount  of  excitement 
in  the  neighborhood.  But  if  it  were  decided  that  the  negroes 
were  the  property  of  Captain  Mandeville,  then  Captain  Mande- 
ville  had  had  a  right  to  carry  his  negroes  to  Washington  in  any 
way  that  he  thought  proper.  And  so  the  case  was  adjourned, 
after  a  protracted  sitting,  and  endless  talk  which  resulted  in  no 
decision. 

This  had  been  during  the  afternoon  session.  During  the 
morning  one,  Max  had  been  kept  hanging  about  the  court-house, 
waiting  for  it  to  come  on.  We  had  all  dined  together  at  the 
public  table — private  meals  or  private  sitting-rooms  being,  in  a 
place  like  this,  too  great  an  advance  in  civilization.  Every  body 
was  looking  at  us.  Governor  Tyrell  was  placed  next  to  Veron 
ica,  and  I  was  on  the  other  side  of  her,  flanked  by  Tyrell,  beyond 
whom  eat  Max  and  Mr.  Morrisson. 

I  wish  I  could  describe  the  endless  variety  of  pies,  baked  in  flat 
plates,  which  the  lawyers  did  not  stay  to  partake  of.  Justice 
was  not  done  to  them  that  day,  for  Tyrell  and  Max  had  no 
appetite,  and  I  am  sure  Veronica  and  I  had  none. 

After  the  court  adjourned,  late  in  the  evening,  Tyrell  came  to 
our  parlor  and  told  us  that  nothing  had  been  done,  and  that  the 
case  of  Mr.  Williams  and  his  claim  would  not  come  on  till  the 
next  morning,  so  that  we  should  have  to  sleep  in  Charlestown, 
or  drive  over  to  Stonehenge  and  partake  of  the  hospitalities  of 
their  bachelor  establishment.  WTe  had  chosen  clean  and  cheer 
ful  looking  rooms  and  preferred  to  remain  in  Charlestown. 

Nobody  can  imagine  the  dreariness  of  that  dreadful  day,  sit 
ting  on  the  Windsor  chairs  in  that  dull  drawing-room,  with 
strangers  coming  ia  and  out,  and  looking  at  us  with  curiosity, 


OUR      COUSIN     VERONICA.  369 

and  a  woman  doing  nothing,  but  fanning  in  a  rocking-chair,  and 
no  possibility  of  comfort,  or  even  of  conversing  privately  together. 
Still  Veronica  did  not  go  to  her  bed-room — nor  did  I  urge  her, 
for  I  fancied  she  was  thinking  that,  perhaps,  Max  might  come 
and  speak  with  her. 

"  Don't  let  us  go  to  supper,  Molly,"  she  said,  when  the  great 
tea-bell  rang  its  summons.  And  I  agreed.  I  had  no  appetite 
for  a  second  edition  of  dinner. 

When  we  were  left  alone,  Veronica  threw  herself  into  the 
rocking-chair,  vacated  by  the  lady  with  the  fan,  with  a  sigh  of 
suppressed  suffering. 

"  Veronica  dear,"  I  said,  kneeling  at  her  side,  "  can  I  do  any 
thing  to  help  you  ?" 

"  Nothing  Molly,"  she  said,  "  but  to  leave  me  alone.     I  wish 

Oh  !  I  wish "     But  what  she  wished  she  did  not 

say.  Her  thought  was  that  her  pride  had  ruined  him  for  life, 
and  she  wished  she  could  have  brought  herself  to  make  an 
advance  for  which  it  Avas  now  too  late.  Her  bitter  remembrance 
of  the  way  in  which  he  scorned  her  love  at  Castleton,  and 
reproached  her  for  too  facile  an  attachment,  had  checked  the 
impulse  of  her  generosity. 

She  got  up  and  walked  to  the  balcony  which  looked  upon  the 
street.  Keeling  down  that  street  came  William  Williams,  with 
his  hat  off  and  some  boys  following  him.  A  decent  looking 
negrn  man,  in  his  working  clothes,  was  passing  with  a  dejected 
look  along  the  narrow  side-walk. 

"  Hallo !  you  Oatlands  nigger !  What's  your  name  ?"  cried 
out  Williams. 

"  Dey  calls  me  Pete,"  replied  the  man,  but  not  very  respect 
fully. 

16* 


370  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"Pete! — you're  the  brother  of  that  runaway  nigger  Christo 
pher,  that  all  this  shine  is  about,  ain't  you  ?" 

"  I'se  Uncle  Christopher's  brother  sure  nuff,"  replied  Uncle 
Pete,  continuing  his  walk.  But  Williams  placed  himself  in  his 
path. 

"  Who's  your  master  ?"  roared  he. 

"  I  dunno,"  said  Uncle  Pete. 

"  I'm  your  master.  D'ye  hear  me  ?"  cried  Williams  at  the 
top  of  his  voice,  brandishing  a  cowhide,  which  he  drew  from 
under  his  coat.  "  I'm  carrying  this  cowhide  to  give  a  whipping 
to  the  English  rascal  who  helped  your  brother  to  run  off  from 
me.  I  reckon  I'll  commence  by  giving  a  taste  of  it  to  you." 

Veronica  shrieked  and  started  back.  In  the  door-way  of  the 
balcony  stood  Max.  He  had  been  there  for  more  than  a  minute 
watching  her.  Her  look  and  gesture  were  a  mute  appeal.  He 
obeyed  it  instantly.  He  ran  down  the  balcony  steps  on  to  the 
street,  and  snatched  the  cowhide  out  of  Will  William's  trem 
bling  hand,  and  threw  it  over  a  high  fence,  with  a  contemptuous 
exclamation,  and  turning  on  his  heel  strode  back  to  the  house. 
Will  Williams  sent  after  him  a  peal  of  long,  loud,  vulgar 
drunken  laughter. 

Max  hesitated  a  moment,  as  if  he  would  go  into  the  house  by 
the  lower  door,  but  changed  his  mind  and  came  up  the  steps 
of  the  balcony  again. 

It  was  nine  o'clock.  The  court  had  sat  very  late.  As  he 
came  up  upon  the  balcony  Veronica  retired  into  the  parlor. 
The  lamp  was  lighted  on  the  table,  and  as  he  came  into  the  room 
she  was  standing  beside  it.  The  light  shone  on  her  face  and  she 
was  greatly  moved.  She  looked  up  and  saw  him. 

"  Ah !  Max,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  371 

He  came  near  her.  Her  hand  was  resting  on  the  table.  Her 
pretty  Avhite  hand.  He  laid  his  hand  upon  it.  And  it  did  not 
stir.  It  was  resting  on  the  Book  of  God.  His  hand  was  laid  on 
it,  as  it  had  been  five  years  before,  over  the  Bible  upon  Mammy's 
bed,  when  they  plighted  their  first  troth  to'  each  other.  Both 
thought  of  that  moment  as  their  hands  met.  Each  was  silent 
till  Veronica  gave  a  sob. 

"  Oh,  Max,"  she  cried,  "  that  man  was  Uncle  Pete,  one  of  old 
Mammy's  sons,  whom  we  promised  to  be  kind  to.  Those  poor 
unhappy  people  at  Oatlands  will  belong  to  that  miserable  drunken 
wretch,  through  my  fault.  And  I  have  ruined  you — and  it  is 
too  late  to  repair  it." 

And  Max  replied  by  passing  his  arm  round  her,  and  drawing 
her  closer — closer  to  himself,  till  her  face  rested  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Too  late,"  she  said,  with  another  sob. 

I  looked  up  and  saw  Tyrell  standing  in  the  doorway.  I  never 
can  forget  the  expression  of  suffering  in  his  face  as  he  stood 
there  and  saw  them.  And  yet  my  impulse  to  appeal  to  him  in 
any  moment  of  distress  was  so  immediate,  that  I  cried  out, 

"  Oh  !  cousin  Tyrell,  is  it  too  late  ?     Can  we  do  nothing  ?" 

Veronica  started  as  I  spoke,  drew  away  from  Max,  and  looked 
up  with  a  tearful  face  of  half  appeal  into  the  pale,  fixed  face  of. 
Tyrell. 

"  Is  it  so,  Max  ?"  said  Tyrell,  recovering  himself.    > 

Max  grasped  his  hand.  He  did  not  know  the  secret  guessed 
by  me,  and  shared  by  Veronica — the  secret  of  Tyrell's  deep  at 
tachment  to  the  woman  who  had  just  surrendered  herself  to  him. 
He  did  not  know  that  as  his  sun  of  life'  arose,  the  paler  star  of 
Tyrell's  hope  set  at  the  other  extremity  of  the  horizon.  He  did 
not  look  into  the  face  of  the  friend,  whose  generous  hand,  icy  as 
it  felt,  returned  his  eager  pressure. 


372  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"It  may  not  be  iu  time  to  quash  our  worthy  cousin's  suit;  and 

yet ."  He  looked  at  Veronica — he  looked  at  Tyrcll,  and 

repeated  an  interrogative  "  and  yet ?" 

Tyrell  hesitated  a  moment. 

O'er  his  face, 

The  tablet  of  unutterable  thoughts  was  traced  ; 
And  then  it  faded  as  it  came. 

"  Stay  here,"  he  cried,  "  and  I  will  see :  it  may  not  be  too  late." 

And  he  departed. 

I  next  heard  his  voice  in  the  court-yard,  calling  firmly,  loudly, 
yet  with  a  change,  which  my  ear  noted,  in  its  tones,  for  Diggory 
to  ride  to  Stonehenge  and  bring  the  Governor. 

Max  and  Veronica,  stood  by  each  other,  with  whispered  words, 
and  hands  clasped  close,  and  sobs,  and  many  a  "  too-late"  of 
self-reproach  from  Veronica.  And  there  were  the  low  tones  of 
Max's  manly  voice  telling  her  (and  oh  !  how  earnestly  our 
cousin  Tyrell  could  have  said  the  same)  how  true  and  tender 
he  would  be  to  her — how  fondly  he  loved  her. 

They  took  no  note  of  time — for  Love  (sly  rogue)  ties  feathers 
to  Time's  feet  when  they  travel  in  company.  Perhaps  they 
partly  knew  what  was  in  preparation — perhaps  reality  was  swal 
lowed  up  in  the  joys  of  that  moment  when  the  affection  which 
had  been  repressed  by  pride,  declared  itself. 

But  I  became  sensible  of  a  bustle  in  the  house — of  a  great 
stir  below  us  in  the  bar-room — of  lights  glancing  across  the 
street  and  in  the  court-house  ;  then  forty  or  fifty  men  seemed 
suddenly  to  turn  into  the  street ;  then  half-a-dozen  of  them  came 
under  the  window  and  gave  a  sort  of  cheer ;  but  they  had  been 
tippling  all  day,  and  were  in  a  state  of  excitement.  I  doubt  if 
the  lovers  heard  them. 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  3*73 

Then  there  was  more  running  with  candles  across  the  street, 
and  lights  began  to  blaze  in  all  the  windows  of  the  court-house. 
After  an  absence  of  half-an-hour  Tyrell  came  back  again. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  all  is  ready ;"  and  he  gave  his  arm  to 
Veronica.  She  clung  to  it — hardly  understanding,  I  think, 
what  she  was  going  to  do.  I  followed  with  Max.  We  Avent 
down  stairs,  and  at  the  door  were  joined  by  Mr.  Morrisson.  In 
the  street  there  was  already  a  considerable  crowd — thickest, 
however,  about  the  doors  of  the  court-house.  Tyrell  made  his 
way  through  this — the  people  making  way — and  we  entered  the 
building. 

Veronica's  face  was  hidden  in  her  handkerchief.  Ah !  Tyrell 
— poor  Tyrell — why  did  she  cling  so  closely  to  your  arm  ? 

Poor  Tyrell ?  I  mean  noble  Tyrell.  There  must 

have  been  joy  in  heaven,  as  the  recording  angel  wrote  down  a 
sacrifice,  that  angels  "  who  neither  marry  nor  are  given  in  mar 
riage,"  could  not  emulate. 

We  went  into  the  court-room.  It  was  full  of  light  and  full 
of  people.  All  the  lamps  and  candles  of  the  inn,  and  of  the 
neighboring  stores  and  offices,  had  been  collected  and  brought 
in  there.  The  judges  sat  on  their  high  bench.  The  clerk  of  the 
court  sat  ready,  with  pen  and  paper. 

We  advanced  to  the  table  before  the  bench,  and  Tyrell  gave 
up  Veronica's  hold  upon  his  arm.  There  was  perfect  silence  in 
the  court-room. 

"  Will  your  honors  have  the  goodness  to  appoint  a  guardian 
for  this  young  lady,  who  is  not  of  age  ?"  said  Tyrell  to  the  pre 
siding  judge,  "in  order  that  the  necessary  legal  paper  may  be 
made  out  for  her  marriage." 

The  judges  asked  two  or  three  questions  that  I  did  not  under 
stand.  They  were  going  through  a  form,  tke  preliminaries  of 


374  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

marriage  being  more  strict  in  Virginia  than  in  any  other  state 
in  America. 

The  judge  turned  to  his  colleagues,  and  after  a  whispered 
word  or  two,  said,  "Mr.  Tyrell,  the  court  appoints  you  guardian 
of  Miss  Lomax,  feeling  sure  it  could  not  bestow  on  you  a  more 
agreeable  duty  than  to  assist  on  this  occasion." 

Veronica  stood  clinging  to  Max,  with  her  head  a  little  bent, 
like  that  of  some  tall  lily.  She  hardly  realized,  I  think,  what 
was  going  on.  Tyrell  walked  up  to  the  clerk  of  the  court, 
whose  pen  was  flying  swiftly  over  his  paper.  There  was  some 
swearing  over  a  book  and  sundry  formulas,  and  Max  and  Vero 
nica  were  several  times  appealed  to.  At  last  a  paper  was  handed 
to  the  judge  and  he  rose  up. 

I  looked  around  for  Tyrell.  He  was  close  at  hand,  stand 
ing  a  little  behind  Veronica,  and  I  could  not  take  my  eyes 
from  his  fixed  face,  so  well  composed  that  no  one  who  did  not 
know  his  secret,  would  have  remarked  the  pain. 

" Thomas  Lomax  Mandeville,"  said  the  judge,  "do  you  take 
this  woman  for  your  wife  ?" 

"  Veronica  Lomax,  do  you  take  this  man  for  your  husband  2" 

They  took  each  other  by  the  hand  affirmatively. 

Max  saw  a  small  gold  ring  on  Tyrell's  finger  (his  mother's 
wedding  ring)  and  with  the  feeling  that  a  man  must  marry  his 
wife  with  a  wedding  ring,  he  made  a  sign  to  him  to  lend 
it  for  the  occasion.  Tyrell,  drew  it  oft'.  Perhaps  he  had  often 
imagined  the  day  when  he  himself  should  give  it  to  this  woman 
as  his  love  gift. 

"I  pronounce  you  man  and  wife,"  fell  on  his  ear,  as  Max 
placed  the  ring  on  his  bride's  finger. 


OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA.  375 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

And  that  high  suffering  which  we  dread, 

A  higher  joy  discloses  ; 
Men  saw  the  thorns  on  Jesus'  brow, 

But  angels  saw  the  roses. 

MRS.  S.  Gr.  HOWE  :  Passion  Flowers. 

THE  hurried  marriage  ceremony  over,  we  went  back  to  the 
hotel,  where  a  great  banquet  of  pies  had  been  set  out  by  the 
landlord,  as  a  complimentary  feast  on  the  occasion,  and  we 
afterwards  understood  that  the  judges,  and  lawyers,  and  sheriffs, 
and  newspaper  editors,  who  had  assisted  at  the  ceremony,  par 
took  of  it,  and  drank  the  bride's  and  bridegroom's  health  in 
whisky-punch,  Avith  roars  of  three  times  three. 

Meanwhile  Max  and  Veronica  and  I  went  up  to  the  inn  parlor. 
Veronica  threw  herself  upon  the  hoise-hair  sofa,  and  cried  from 
agitation.  Max  sat  by  her  and  soothed  her.  I  walked  out  upon 
the  balcony,  under  the  grape-vine,  through  whose  leaves  the 
moonshine  twinkled  and  threw  fantastic  shadows. 

By  and  by  Max  came  and  called  me.  Veronica  was  more 
composed,  though  she  would  not  acknowledge  herself  married. 
Governor  Tyrell  had  arrived  and  was  sitting  beside  her  on  the 
sofa. 

"I  have  promised  Max  that  our  real  wedding-day  shall  be 
this  day  week,"  she  said,  blushing  deeply.  "Do  you  suppose 


376  OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA. 

that   Marm  Venus   can   make  wedding-cake   enough   by  that 

time  ?" 

%•         #         *         *         *         *         *         #         * 

It  was  the  wedding  afternoon.  Marm  Venus  had  put  forth 
all  her  powers,  and  will  boast  of  her  exertions  to  her  dying  day. 
As  a  great  battle  to  a  commander-in-chief,  so  is  a  wedding  in 
the  family  to  the  black  Soyer. 

''  Laws,  honey,"  she  says,  whenever  you  remind  her  of  it, 
"  couldn't  never  bin  married-  if  Mammy  Venus  hadn't  kep  up 
three  days  an'  three  nights  sure  'nuff,  jes  winkin'  'tween  whiles 
— an'  sure  'nuff  dat  weddin'-cake  turned  out  real  elegant,  honey ! 
Aunt  Mona  dar,  way  dar  from  Mas'  Tyrell's,  she  done  turn  up 
her  nose  cos  I  got  a  roas'  pig  with  a  lemon  in  his  month,  way 
dar  top  of  'e  table,  an'  I  says  to  her,  '  nebber  hab  no  weddins' 
in  your  house  sense  you  was  little  black  gal.  Reckon  you 
dunno  nothin'  'bout  it  anyhow.' " 

A  large  number  of  guests  had  been  bidden  to  the  wedding, 
for  this  was  not  a  case  in  which  "  sober  privacy  was  comelier 
than  public  display."  The  wedding  at  the  court-house  hr.d 
formed  the  subject  of  so  many  newspaper  paragraphs,  that  it 
was  the  object  of  all  concerned  to  mark  by  all  possible  bridal 
display,  their  resolution  to  consider  the  religious  ceremony  their 
true  marriage. 

The  servants  had  been  so  occupied  all  day  that  I  did  not  feel 
justified  in  sending  Tommy  Tad  to  Fighterstown,  though  I  had 
seen  the  stage  pass  up  the  road,  and  knew  it  was  the  day  when 
we  should  probably  receive  our  English  letters. 

While  I  was  still  in  my  chamber  putting  the  last  touches  to 
my  dress  (for  it  wanted  but  an  hour  to  the  time  fixed  for  the 
arrival  of  the  company),  I  saw  Tyrell  riding  towards  the  house, 
accompanied  by  Diggory  with  a  carpet-bag.  I  put  my  head 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  377 

out  of  my  chamber  window  and  called  to  him ;  for  calling  in 
Virginia,  where  bells  are  hardly  known,  is  not  considered  an 
unlady-like  proceeding. 

"  Cousin  Tyrell,  did  you  stop  at  the  post-office,  and  ask  if  there 
were  anything  for  us,  as  you  came  through  Fighterstown  ?" 

"No  I  did  not,"  said  he,  putting  his  foot  in  the  stirrup  again 
"  But  there  is  plenty  of  time  to  spare,  I  will  ride  down  and 
bring  you  your  letters  ?" 

It  did  not  take  me  long  to  complete  rny  toilette,  and  leaving 
our  chamber  to  Veronica  and  to  the  many  cousins  and  friends, 
anxious  to  add  last  touches  to  her  bridal  beauty,  I  went  down 
upon  the  porch  and  waited  the  return  of  Tyrell.  He  soon  arrived, 
though  no  horse  could  have  "  kept  pace  with  my  expectancy," 
and  riding  up  to  the  porch  he  said  "  A  letter  for  Max — not  any 
for  you."  I  took  it  from  him.  It  was  an  English  letter  in  our 
father's  hand.  I  ran  up  to  Max's  chamber  and  knocked.  Max, 
nearly  dressed,  opened  the  door. 

"  Please  Max  tell  me  what  does  papa  say  ?'' 

He  opened  the  letter  and  glanced  over  it.  Tyrell  was  coming 
up  the  stairs.  I  knew  he  intended  to  make  his  toilette  in  Max's 
room.  But  I  was  watching  the  change  in  Max's  face,  and  did 
not  stir  as  he  came  into  the  chamber. 

"  What  is  it  Max  ?" 

"  Nothing,"  he  said,  crushing  the  letter  in  his  hand.  It  is 
business  for  me.1' 

"  Max  you  must  tell  me !" 

I  clasped  his  arm.  I  looked  wildly  into  his  face,  for  I  saw  that 
something  had  gone  wrong  with  him  by  its  expression.  Fatigue, 
anxiety,  and  "hope  deferred,"  had  unnerved  me  completely. 

"Nonsense,"  said  he,  trying  to  laugh.  "You  are  absurd, 
Molly." 


378  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  Then  let  me  see  the  letter,  Max." 

"  Xo — no.  Be  a  good  girl.  I  will  tell  you  about  it  when  the 
wedding  is  over.  Go  away  now,  Molly — that's  a  dear !"  ho  said. 
And  something  in  his  tone  struck  on  my  ear  compassionately. 

"  Oh !  cousin  Tyrell,"  I  exclaimed,  "  ask  him  to  tell  me  what 
he  knows.  I  shall  be  wretched  till  I  know  the  worst.  There  is 
such  vague  uncertainty  when  there  is  everything  to  fear." 

"  Don't  think  about  your  fears,"  said  Max.  "  Let  it  alone  till 
after  the  wedding." 

"  Oh  !  tell  me !"  I  stretched  out  my  hands  in  suppli 
cation.  I  was  growing  very  pale,  and  Max  became  frightened 
at  my  expression. 

"For  pity's  sake,  dear  Molly,"  he  exclaimed,  "  take  my  advice. 
Try  to  bear  up  until  the  wedding  is  over,  and  then ." 

"  I  will  bear  up.    I  will  not  spoil  your  wedding — only  tell  me." 

"  Mr.  Howard  is  going  to  be  married.  So  my  father  tells  me," 
he  replied. 

"  To  whom  ?"  I  said,  trembling,  but  chilled  into  proud  calm 
ness  by  the  presence  of  cousin  Tyrell. 

Max  was  deceived  by  the  composure  of  my  manner,  and 
having  taken  the  first  step,  and  not  finding  its  effects  so  bad  as 
he  had  feared,  he  hurried  over  the  remainder  of  his  information. 

'•  I  always  told  you  that  he  was  not  a  man  we  could  depend 
upon,  situated  as  he  was,  with  the  whole  Howard  influence  in 
favor  of  his  marrying  that  wretched  little  half-caste  daughter  of 
Sir  Howard  and  the  Begum." 

I  turned  to  leave  the  room.  My  first  thought,  even  in  that 
agony,  was  to  conceal  my  agitation  from  the  eyes  of  Tyroll. 

"  Cousin  Tyrell,  I  beg  your  pardon,  for  having  been  in  your 
way,"  I  began  to  say  with  a  smile,  but  suddenly  tho  room 
rocked  under  my  feet,  like  the  deck  of  an  ocean  steamer.  I 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  379 

seemed  to  have  no  foothold.  The  floor  of  the  room  was  like  a 
great  sheet,  lifted  at  the  four  corners.  Everything  heaved 
around  me.  I  staggered  and  fell.  One  of  them  caught  me. 
When  I  remember  anything  more,  I  was  lying  with  my  rose- 
garland  crushed  and  drooping,  in  Max's  arms,  who  was  sup 
porting  my  head  upon  his  shoulder,  while  Tyrell  bathed  my 
temples. 

"  How  do  you  feel  now  ?"  said  Max. 

"  Oh !  I  don't  know,"  I  said,  trying  to  stand,  "  so  weak  and 
dizzy." 

"  Oh !  Molly,  try  to  bear  up  for  Veronica's  sake,"  Max  Avhis- 
pered.  "  Just  bear  up  bravely  until  this  is  over.  It  will  grieve 
her  so  much,  if  you,  who  are  her  bridesmaid,  should  be  unhappy 
or  absent.  Take  courage,  for  my  sake,  don't  give  way." 

"  Come  along,  captain !  The  bishop  has  come  !"  shouted 
Philip  Ormsby,  on  the  stair-case,  "  and  my  little  charmer,  Miss 
Jenny  Dawes,  looks  like  an  angel,  in  rose-buds  and  white  slip 
pers.  I  am  to  stand  up  with  her.  Where  is  the  other  brides 
maid  ?  All  the  house  is  looking  everywhere  for  her.  Tyrell  is 
her  groomsman.  That  will  be  a  match  yet.  Ain't  you  most 
done  fixing  yourself  up,  Tyrell  ?" 

I  raised  myself  from  Max's  arms,  and  stood  up.     I  felt  pale. 

"  Can  you  bear  it  ?"  said  Tyrell,  in  a  low  voice.  "  If  you  can 
do  it  trust  to  me.  No  one  shall  notice  you." 

I  looked  into  his  face,  and  read  my  lesson  there.  "  Blessed 
is  he  that  overcometh  !"  I  made  an  effort  to  collect  my  scat 
tered  senses,  and  to  rise  superior  to  suffering.  Between  us,  at 
that  moment,  were  established  the  true  relations  between  man 
and  woman.  The  one  imparting  strength  to  every  noble  pur 
pose,  and  receiving  it  from  a  consciousness  of  his  protecting 
superiority.  Some  lines  that  Tyrell  had  quoted  to  me,  came 


380  OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA. 

into  my  memory  at  that  moment.  Rising,  as  it  were,  by  inspi 
ration  to  my  thoughts,  as  quotations  do  continually,  for  we 
know  not  whence  they  come,  nor  whither  they  fade  from  our 
remembrance.  They  prosper  in  the  errand  whereunto  they  have 
been  sent,  and  leave  celestial  messages  at  the  heart's  door. 

"  BE  NOBLE  !  and  the  nobleness  that  lies 
la  other  men,  sleeping,  but  never  dead, 
Shall  rise  in  majesty  to  meet  thine  own. 
Then  wilt  thou  see  it  gleam  in  other  eyes, 
Then  will  pure  light  around  thy  path  be  shed, 
And  thou  wilt  never  more  be  sad  and  lone." 

Perhaps  the  spirit  of  this  quotation  was  fulfilled  to  Tyrell  in 
that  hour,  when  half  his  thoughts  were  of  another  who  was 
suffering  at  his  side,  and  when  he  must  have  known  that  I  caught 
the  reflection  of  his  self-devotion.  Perhaps  God's  kind  angels 
smiled  more  kindly  upon  us  than  they  did  on  happier  hearts  in 
that  gay  room. 

The  large  square  dining-room,  cleared  for  the  wedding,  was 
full  of  flowers  and  lights.  Guests  to  the  number  of  one  hundred 
and  more,  were  assembled.  The  bishop  was  waiting,  book  in 
hand.  Cousin  Philip  and  Miss  Jane,  a  rustling  cloud  of  pink 
and  white,  preceded  us  into  the  presence  of  the  company,  and 
Tyrell  and  I  followed.  I,  clinging  to  his  protection,  and  feeling 
cadi  throb  of  that  true  heart,  as  it  beat  against  the  hand  that 
lay  upon  his  arm.  He  stood  back  amongst  the  guests  to  the 
injury  of  the  "  coup  cToeil"  but  to  my  great  relief,  for  I  could 
still  lean  upon  his  arm,  and  we  hardly  looked  like  groomsman 
and  bridesmaid. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  381 

And  thus  we  heard  those  wedding  words,  which  strike  so 
sadly  on  the  ear  of  many  a  wedding  guest  at  every  wedding. 
Some  hear  them  and  think  how  far  their  lives  have  drifted  from 
the  hopes  of  brighter,  purer  days,  when  their  lips  uttered  them. 
Some  hear  them,  knowing  in  their  hearts,  that  such  dear  vows 
will  never  pass  their  lips,  and,  perhaps,  as  their  thoughts  follow 
the  bridegroom's  words,  another  voice  takes  up  the  answer, — a 
voice  that  should  have  uttered  the  companion  vow — a  voice  that 
only  echoes  in  their  dreams,  or  in  sad  hours  lifts  its  lonely 
wail  in  that  sad,  haunted,  carefully  closed  chamber  of  the  heart, 
where  walk  the  ghosts  of  memory. 

I  heard  the  words  of  marriage,  and  they  struck  a  knell  upon 
my  heart. 

"  I  Max,  take  thee,  Veronica." — Was  Tyrell's  heart  rebellious 
at  that  moment  ?  Did  it  seem  hard  that  it  could  never  be, 
"  I  James,"  instead  of  Max  ?  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  the 
doors  of  hope  closed  with  an  iron  clang,  as  I  thought  no 
voice  would  ever  say,  "  I  Henry,  take  thee,  Mary."  That 
bright  dream  had  faded  into  grey,  and  Hope  must  never 
more  mix  rainbow-tints,  and  paint  it  on  my  fancy. 

"  0  stern  word— nevermore." 

They  crowded  round  the  bride,  with  their  congratulatory 
kisses.  Tyrell  led  me  away  on  to  the  quiet  porch ;  under  the 
eyes  of  heaven.  We  sat  down  on  the  lowest  steps  of  the  porch ; 
I  blessed  the  coolness  and  silence.  I  leant  my  head  upon  my 
hand,  and  tears  came  fast,  trickling  in  the  starlight,  down  my 
arms,  and  falling  on  my  wedding  finery. 

After  a  time  Tyrell  said,  "  I  intended  to  ride  over  to  Oatlands 
this  evening,  and  see  if  everything  were  in  order  for  the  recep 
tion  to-morrow,  of  your  brother  and  his  wife.  What  if  we 


382  OCR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

/ 

take  Diggory  and  Aunt  Pomona  (who  came  over  here  to  assist 
at  the  supper,  but  Mrs.  Morrisson  says  she  is  only  in  the  way  of 
old  Aunt  Venus),  and  y»u  come  with  me?  It  will  only  be  an 
hour's  ride,  and  you  can  tell  them  better  than  I  can  what  they 
should  do." 

I  did  not  answer. 

"•  A  quiet  ride  by  star-light  will  be  better  than  the  garish 
glare  of  a  ball-room." 

"  Oh  !  so  much  better !" 

"Come  then,  get  on  your  riding-dress;  old  Warren's  wife 
will  find  a  room  at  Oatlands  for  you." 

I  rose  up  to  obey,  and  he  went  to  call  his  servants  and  to 
saddle  Angelo.  I  know  not  how  it  was,  but  without  fuss,  he 
arranged  it  so  that,  with  no  servants  in  the  way,  we  mounted 
our  horses — cousin  Virginia  coming  down  .the  steps  of  the  porch 
to  see  us  off,  and  taking  charge  of  my  excuses  to  the  rest  of  the 
wedding-party. 

Diggory,  with  Aunt  Pomona  mounted  en  croupe,  were  waiting 
for  us.  Every  body  obeyed  Tyrell,  without  fuss.  He  was  like  a 
skillful  rider,  who  manages  his  horse  with  a  firm  hand,  but  never 
frets  his  mouth,  as  is  the  case  with  most  men. 

So  again  wo  were  on  horseback,  riding  fast  away  from  Clair- 
mont  with  all  its  windows  gleaming  with  light  conspicuous  even 
from  the  gap  in  the  distant  mountain. 

We  rode  in  silence  for  a  mile  or  two.  We  were  taking  a 
short  cut,  and  struck  into  the  woods,  where  we  had  to  ride  more 
slowly.  Nothing  could  have  quieted  my  throbbing  nerves  like 
that  still,  fast  ride  by  star-light.  Suddenly,  as  we  came  to  an 
opening  in  the  trees,  a  growl  of  thunder  struck  upon  our  ears ; 
another  and  another,  and  the  lightning  began  to  play  across  the 
eky,  flash  after  flash.  The  wind  was  gathering  up  its  strength. 
It  was  a  real  Virginia  thunder-storm. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  383 

"The  voice  of  the  Lord  breaketh  the  cedars,"  said  Tyrell, 
quoting  that  magnificent  description  by  the  poet  David,  of  the 
rise  and  progress  of  an  Eastern  thunder-storm. 

As  he  said  it,  there  came  a  crash,  followed  by  sudden  silence. 
A  great  tree,  only  two  hundred  yards  from  us,  was  struck  by 
lightning.  There  was  a  blinding  flash :  a  sudden  glare  suc 
ceeded  it,  and  about  fifteen  feet  of  blasted  wood  came  crashing, 
splintering  down  upon  the  smaller  tree-tops :  the  monarch  of  the 
forest  was  discrowned.  For  years  he  had  courted  and  defied  the 
lightning,  which  at  length  remembered  him  in  wrath. 

The  horses  reared  and  plunged  with  starting  eyes.  Diggory 
and  Aunt  Pomona  disappeared  into  the  darkness.  Tyrell  leaped 
from  the  saddle  and  seized  the  head  of  Angelo.  "The  dark 
grey  charger,"  with  his  bridle  hanging  loose,  galloped  away  in 
frantic  terror.  Tyrell  calmed  Angelo.  The  blazing  tree  died 
out.  The  heavy  rain  came,  soaking  through  the  arches  of  the 
forest,  wetting  us  to  the  skin. 

"  There  is  a  blacksmith's  shop  not  far  from  here,"  said  Tyrell, 
"  where  we  may  find  shelter." 

The  rain  was  so  heavy,  that  at  every  step  set  by  Tyrell  or  by 
Angelo,  there  was  a  spongy,  quashing  sound,  as  if  we  had  been 
going  through  a  morass,  as  the  water  was  pressed  out  of  the 
fallen  leaves.  The  rapid  lightning  showed  us  the  narrow  path, 
while  the  great  drops  of  rain  came  tearing  through,  and  break 
ing  down,  the  broad  oak  foliage ;  and  ever  and  anon  "  the  tem 
pest  held  his  breath,"  before  another  effort  more  fierce  and 
sudden  than  the  last,  sent  the  hail  rattling  on  the  tree-tops  with 
redoubled  violence ;  and  the  fierce  voice  of  the  thunder  muttered 
in  the  distance — then  roared  nearer  and  nearer,  and  died  away 
towards  the  mountain,  where  we  heard  it  growl  from  rock  to 
rock,  like  some  fierce  monster  driven  to  his  lair. 


384  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

We  reached  the  shop  at  length,  a  ruinous  old  shanty,  insuf- 
ficieut  to  keep  out  the  rain,  which  found  its  way  abundantly 
through  the  shingles.  Tyrell  swung  himself  through  the  little 
window,  and  unfastened  the  door  from  the  inside.  lie  led 
Angelo  in ;  and  he  and  I,  and  the  pony,  found  partial  shel 
ter. 

It  was  past  eleven  at  night,  as  Tyrell's  watch  showed  by  one 
of  the  sudden  flashes.  I  sat  down  on  a  rude  horse-block,  and 
Tyrell,  after  a  little  while,  placed  himself  near  me.  We  tried  to 
talk  about  our  situation — the  prospect  that  the  rain  would  cease 
— what  we  had  better  do  when  it  should  be  over ;  but  by-and- 
by  the  conversation  flagged.  I  moved  my  seat  to  escape  a 
heavy  stream  that  was  pouring  through  the  roof,  and  Tyrell, 
who  was  fast  lapsing  into  a  reverie,  roused  himself  suddenly. 

"  Cousin  Molly,"  he  said,  "  don't  think  me  careless  of  your 
comfort" 

"  Indeed  you  have  been  all  kindness,"  I  replied.  And  then, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  I  ventured  to  add,  "Cousin  Tyrell,  I 
believe  you  can  appreciate  that  kindness  more  than  you  think  I 
can.  You  have  been  very  generous.  I  owe  you  thanks  for 
more  than  attention  to  my  comfort — for  your  example."  I  went 
on  hurriedly — "  Believe  me,  cousin  Tyrell,  I  am  not  incapable  of 
understanding  it."  I  laid  my  hand  on  his  hand  as  I  spoke,  and 
he  took  it  and  pressed  it  kindly. 

"  Did  your  sister  tell  you ?"  he  began. 

"  No,  no  !''  I  cried;  "she  is  too  honorable  to  have  breathed  a 
word  on  such  a  subject ;  but  I  have  seen  it  since  you  told  me  the 
legend.  Oh !  cousin  Tyrell,  words  are  weak  to  tell  you  what 
I  have  learned  through  watching  you." 

"  Yes,"  he  said  sadly,  "  it  is  true.  I  loved  her — I  loved  her  " 
(he  dwelt  upon  the  word  as  if  lengthening  out  its  sweetness), 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  385 

"  with  the  exclusive  devotion  of  a  ]onely  heart — a  heart  that  had 
never  opened  its  closed  leaves  to  any  woman  till  I  knew  her. 
And  when  I  loved  her,  minor  interests  in  life  and  lesser  joys 
seemed  to  blossom  in  the  sunshine  of  the  great  hope  and  happi 
ness.  My  care  must  be  to  tend  these ;  they  are  all  that  is  left. 
I  pray  and  strive  they  may  not  die  in  this  the  Arctic  winter  of 
my  life,  in  which  the  sun  withdraws  himself. 

'  That  love  for  one  from  which  there  does  not  spring 
Wide  love  for  all  is  but  a  worthless  thing.' 

I  want  all  that  is  good  in  me  to  be  counted  as  her  triumph.  I 
want  every  deed  of  kindness  that  I  do  to  be  reckoned  to  her. 
The  madness  is  past.  Her  memory  will  shine  as  a  true  light. 
But  I  am  glad  she  is  going  to  England,  otherwise  I  must 
have  gone  myself.  I  am  not  strong  enough  to  look  unmoved 
upon  their  happiness,  and  know  that  while  Veronica  says  kindly, 
'  I  am  sorry  for  his  suffering,'  the  remembrance  of  that  suffering 
will  be  effaced  by  the  sweetness  of  the  first  word  of  love  that  is 
uttered  by  another." 

I  was  silent.  But  with  all  my  love  and  sisterly  admiration 
for  Max,  I  yet  wondered  why  she  had  not  preferred  our  cousin 
Tyrell  to  my  brother." 

"  I  loved  her  from  the  first  day  I  saw  her  here,"  he  went  on 
to  say,  "when  she  welcomed  me  with  rising  tears,  and  kind, 
bright  smiles,  because  I  was  a  Avaif  from  Castleton ;  and  every 
succeeding  interview  made  her  more  dear.  She  liked  me  very 
cordially.  In  conversation  with  her  opinions  took  a  higher  tone, 
my  thoughts  blended  with  her  thoughts,  as  rain-drops  run  into 
each  other.  My  hidden  fancies  shrinking  from  the  light,  came 
forth  and  claimed  her  recognition,  and  I  remarked  with  rapture 
that  she  caught  my  tricks  of  thought,  and  in  the  quiet  and  calm 

17 


386  OUH      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

beauty  of  her  soul,  I  saw  my  dreams  reflected,  as  one  sees  the 
sky  on  the  still  bosom  of  some  lake  or  river.  I  had  no  reason 
but  this  to  imagine  that  she  loved  me,  and  yet  I  feared  no  rival, 
there  was  nobody  else  here  whom  I  imagined  she  could  love.  I 
knew  nothing  of  your  brother.  Suddenly  the  news  came 
of  old  Mr.  Lomax's  decease  and  of  his  will.  I  thought 
I  ought  to  test  my  fate,  to  win  or  lose  it  all.  I  spoke 
to  her.  It  was  nearly  a  year  ago  that  I  first  spoke  to  her 
(I  have  spoken  to  her  once  since),  and  then  found  I  had 
been  guilty  of  self-deception.  "In  my  gay  silk-mongolfier  I 
had  risen  to  the  highest  regions  of  the  Empyrean,  by  a  natural 
parabolic  track,  and  returned  thence  in  a  swift  perpendicular 
one."  I  am  not  a  man  to  sue  for  love  withheld,  and  lower  my 
own  self-respect ;  nor  was  Veronica  Lomax  the  woman  to  be 
moved  by  that  which  would  degrade  her  lover.  I  went  home 
to  the  old  house,  which  now  seemed  doubly  dreary,  and  shut 
myself  two  days  into  my  own  room.  It  was  my  wilderness  of 
temptation — and  then  after  the  devil  left  me,  angels  came  and 
ministered  unto  me.  There  was  the  Angel  of  Hope  in  skyey- 
robe,  and  she  said,  "  Be  worthy  of  the  happiness  that  you  have 
lost,  and  God  will  make  up  in  Himself  that  which  He  withholds 
from  you."  There  was  the  Angel  of  Love,  who  stood  beside  me 
in  my  dream,  and  wore  the  likeness  of  Veronica,  and  she  laid 
her  hand  upon  my  brow,  and  said,  "  Arise,  for  I  have  work  for 
thee."  And  the  Angel  of  Peace  stole  after  her,  and  left  the 
Saviour's  legacy.  Cousin  Molly,  let  me  assure  you,  from  expe 
rience,  that  God,  like  kings  of  old  romance,  flings  his  jewels  in 
a  cup — and  that  cup  is  the  cup  of  soirow.  Anything  that 
teaches  us  heart-knowledge  of  the  commonest  religious  truths  is 
blessed  to  us.  Watch  and  pray  that  having  sown  in  tears  you 
may  not  fail  to  reap  the  blessing.  Pray  that  you  may  watch, 


O  U  H      COUSIN      V  E  R  O  X  I  C  A  .  387 

and  watch  that  you  may  pray.  Bereavements  are  ambas 
sadors  from  heaven,  bearing  precious  gifts  to  us.  More  precious 
than  anything  we  offer  in  exchange  is  their  gold,  frankincense 
and  myrrh.  Shall  we  refuse  their  gifts,  especially  as  they  will 
assuredly  fulfill  their  errand,  and  carry  off  that  which  they 
came  to  seek  and  find  ?  Refuse  to  entertain  the  messengers  of 

O 

heaven  as  we  will,  no  embassy  of  Death  or  Grief  goes  empty 
away." 

"  Ah  !  cousin  Tyrell  -        - !" 

"  All  this  is  vague,"  he  said,  "  but  these  are  truths,  which  each 
of  us  must  work  into  the  woof  of  life,  according  to  the  design 
that  lies  before  him.  I  have  been  trying  since  that  time  to  find 
out  what  I  have  to  work  at.  Cousin  Molly,  there  is  the  same 
task  for  you.  Though  in  what  form  it  may  be  set  I  know  not. 
Each  one  for  himself,  by  the  light  that  God  affords,  must  deter 
mine  it.  One  reason  that  a  married  life  is  best  (wThat  woman's 
heart  does  not  acknowledge  it  is  best?)  is  that  the  line  of  duty 
lies  so  plainly  before  you.  But  where  marriage  is  impossible, 
the  path  to  happiness  is  somewhere,  if  we  can  but  find  it.  It  is 
our  part  to  look  for  it — near  at  hand,  most  probably,  and  not 
far  off;  often  under  our  very  feet;  so  close  at  hand  we  over 
look  it." 

And  as  he  spoke,  the  first  light  of  the  dawn  streamed  in 
through  the  dilapidated  rafters.  The  chirp  of  birds,  rejoicing 
after  the  rain-storm  of  the  night,  began.  The  waters  still 
splashed  from  the  leaves  in  heavy  drops,  but  in  every  drop  when 
the  sun  rose  would  shine  a  tiny  rainbow. 

We  were  startled  by  the  suddenness  of  the  chancre.     Mornino- 

*  o  o 

Had  come  unexpectedly  upon  us.  Tyrell  rose  and  led  out 
An£relo.  I  mounted  and  we  retraced  our  steps  alonor  the  forest 

O  1  O 

path  which  we   had   traversed   in   the  darkness.     Just  as  we 


388  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

neared  the  opening  in  the  wood,  where  the  storm  had  burst 
over  our  heads  during  the  night,  the  sun  rose  red  over  the  Blue 
Ridge,  and  we  saw  Tyrell's  charger,  with  his  broken  bridle  hang 
ing  from  his  neck,  grazing  quietly  beneath  the  ghastly  ruins  of 
the  blasted  tree,  but  a  few  yards  before  us. 


O  U  U     COUSIN     VEROKICA.  389 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

Facts  with  her  are  accomplished,  as  Frenchmen  would  say, 
They  will  prove  all  she  wishes  them  to — either  way  ; 
And  as  fact  lies  on  this  side  or  that,  we  must  try, 
If  we're  seeking  the  truth,  to  find  where  it  don't  lie. 

Falile  for  Critics.    3.  K.  LOWELL. 

I  OUGHT  to  have  said,  perhaps,  in  an  earlier  place,  that  the 
•whole  tide  of  public  sentiment  turned  in  favor  of  Max  after  the 
hurried  wedding  in  the  court-house,  and  quashed  all  proceedings 
against  him ;  whilst  the  claim  of  Mr.  Williams  was  made  null 

O 

and  void,  since  Oatlands  and  its  negroes,  by  the  terms  of  the 
will,  fell  to  Veronica.  There  were  persons  in  the  community 
who  still  bore  enmity  to  Max  for  his  anti-slavery  tendencies; 
but  Mr.  Felix  advanced,  and  maintained,  a  theory  that  when  a 
man  came  to  own  slaves,  he  was  enlisted  in  support  of  the  insti 
tution,  and  he  "  mightily  convinced  "  the  frequenters  of  the  post- 
office,  illustrating  his  position  with  many  and  illustrious  exam 
ples.  What  Max  would  have  said  to  that  line  of  defence  I 
cannot  say.  lie  was  occupied  with  the  civilities  he  had  to  pay 
to  the  guests  who  assembled  in  honor  of  his  happiness  at  Oat- 
lands;  and  after  he  and  Veronica  and  I  were  left  in  peace, 
there  came  endless  business  arrangements  with  old  Warren  and 
the  Tyrells. 

Oatlands  was  a  mean  and  inconvenient  house,  though  good 
enough  for  Warren  and  his  wife ;  and  it  was  little  likely  Max 


390  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

and  Veronica  would  ever  do  more  than  pay  their  Virginia  pro 
perty  an  occasional  brief  visit  of  inspection. 

It  was  a  great  satisfaction  to  Max  and  Veronica  to  find  every 
reason  to  believe  that  Warren  (an  old  English  yeoman,  imported 
as  a  sort  of  steward  in  the  time  of  our  grandfather)  was  a  con 
scientious  guardian  of  their  people's  interests ;  and  had  he  not 
also  been  true  and  just  in  his  dealings  with  his  employer,  he 
could  hardly  have  failed  to  take  advantage  of  the  repeated 
injunctions  he  received,  to  make  the  interests  of  the  owners  of 
the  property  secondary  to  those  of  the  negroes  who  cultivated  it. 

"-Z/'«?t  n'empeche pas  Vautre"  said  Tyrell.     "The  true  interests  • 
of  the  negroes  are  best  promoted  by  the  prosperity  of  the  master. 
They  take  their  full  share  of  the  advantages  of  a  good  harvest, 
while  the  penalties  of  debt  and  difficulty  are  more  apt  to  fall 
heavily  on  them  than  on  their  owner." 

"  The  misfortune  is,"  said  Veronica,  "  that  in  attention  to  the 
physical  comfort  of  our  slaves,  and  often  to  their  enjoyments,  we 
are  apt  to  imagine  we  have  done  our  duty,  and  that  all  the 
reproach  that  the  North  heaps  on  slavery,  is  unjust  to  us; 
whereas  the  real  responsibility  laid  upon  us  is  heavier  far  than  to 
provide  food,  clothing,  and  good  treatment  for  them." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Max,  "  the  insensibility  around  me,  constantly 
reminds  me  of  an  anecdote  my  father  tells  of  Mr.  Randolph. 
He  was  at  an  anti-slavery  meeting  in  Exeter  llall,  in  London ; 
for,  twenty  years  ago,  Exeter  Hall  was  a  young  power  in  the 
state,  and  a  public  man  in  America  was  not  liable  to  be  bothered 
through  all  his  after  career,  because  some  simpleton  raised 
doubts  about  the  principles  of  the  company  in  which  he  indulged 
the  freedom  of  speech-making.  Mr.  Wilberforce  was  chairman 
of  the  meeting,  and  on  seeing  Mr.  Randolph  come  into-the  Hall, 
he  reijiif'sted  him  fo  come  up  upon  the  platform,  and  fts,  the 


OUR      COUSIN     VERONICA.  391 

great  American  orator,  to  oblige  them  with  a  speech.  Mr.  Ran 
dolph  complied,  and  in  a  happy  effort  of  half-an-hour's  length, 
spoke,  highly  of  the  philanthropic  intentions  of  the  Society,  and 
then  branched  off  to  the  subject  of  slavery  in  Virginia — lauding 
highly  the  general  condition  of  the  slaves,  and  forcibly  contrast 
ing  the  plenty  they  enjoyed  with  the  scanty  comforts  of  our 
English  peasantry.  Mr.  Wilberforce,  after  the  speech,  came 
across  the  platform  and  complimented  Mr.  Randolph,  at  whose 
side  was  standing  an  English  admiral,  of  American  origin. 

"'I  am  happy  to  hear  you  say  so  much  on  the  subject  of  the 
good  treatment  of  the  slaves,'  began  Mr.  Wilberforce. 

" '  It  is  all  true,  sir — all  true,'  interrupted  the  admiral. 

*';I  am  more  glad,  sir,  to  have  it  confirmed,'  said  Mr.  Wilber 
force  ;  '  but  think  of  their  souls  T 

" '  Jiang  their  souls  !'  cried  the  admiral  with  a  laugh.  '  How 
should  we  know  any  tiling  about  their  souls?  We  never  saw 
them !' " 

"  And  yet,"  said  Tyrell,  "  the  number  of  black  communicants 
in  the  Baptist  and  Methodist  societies  is  very  large  indeed.  If 
you  take  a  census  of  the  whites  and  blacks,  I  think  you  will  find 
a  double  per-centage  of  black  to  white  communicants  among 
our  southern  population." 

"  I  don't  see  what  that  proves,"  said  Veronica,  "  except  that 
the  rain  of  heaven  trickles  down  into  the  valleys,  and  does  not 
lodge  upon  the  hills.  You  are  arguing  away  from  the  main 
point,  like  a  slave-owner  and  a  Virginian.  Can  you  say,  upon 
your  conscience,  that  you  think  that  the  conscientious  care  that 
ought  to  be  prominent  in  a  Christian  community,  is  taken  of  our 
servants'  religions  interests,  or  even  of  their  morals?" 

Tyrell  was  silent.  Perhaps  he  was  recalling  sins  of  omission 
on  his  own  estate ;  or  perhaps,  with  the  characteristic  prompt!- 


392  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

tude  with  which  he  set  each  new  idea  to  work,  he  was  forming 
resolutions  for  the  future. 

"  The  practical  point  is,  I  conclude,"  said  he,  "  what  shall  be 
done  in  favor  of  the  little  Oatlands  darkeys  ?" 

"  Mrs.  Warren  tells  me  she  has  some  sort  of  Sunday-school 
for  them,"  said  Max. 

"  True,"  said  Tyrell,  "  so  there  is  on  almost  every  estate ;  but 
you  just  now  seemed  to  say,  that  these  classes,  conducted  as 
they  are  by  the  women  and  children  of  the  place,  are  inadequate 
to  meet  the  master's  responsibility.  I  am  ready  to  propose  to 
ride  over  here,  and  do  my  best  to  impart  oral  instruction  to  the 
people  on  this  place  every  Sunday." 

"You  are  the  best  of  friends  and  neighbors,"  exclaimed  Max. 
"  It  would  be  too  bad  to  give  you  any  trouble  of  that  sort,  old 
fellow." 

"I  am  not  sure  but  cousin  Tyrell  has  illustrated  another 
principle,"  said  Veronica  with  a  laugh.  "  He  rounded  his 
%oral  so  quietly,  that  it  reminds  me  of  the  figures  that  we  draw 
for  children — distracting  their  attention  till  we  crv  out  suddenly 

O  *  •> 

4  and  so  they  found  that  they  had  made  a  goose.'  Is  it  not  true 
that  all  the  wise  talk  on  this  subject  is  in  England  or  the  North 
ern  States,  and  when  anything  is  to  be  done,  the  burden  falls  upon 
the  South  ?" 

Cousin  Tyrell  did  not  answer  this  remark.  lie  had  ridden 
over  upon  business,  and  that  business  being  wound  up  by  this 
discussion,  lie  took  his  hat  and  was  gone. 

After  a  month  spent  at  Oatlands,  receiving  visits  of  felicitation, 
and  making  preparations  for  a  long  farewell  to  "Ole  Virginny," 
Max,  and  Veronica,  and  I,  found  ourselves  one  morning  standing 
on  the  platform  of  the  imilroad,  at  Charlestown,  waiting  for  the 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  393 

train  from  Winchester,  which  was  to  carry  us  the  first  stage  on 
our  way  home.  The  time  had  been  changed,  the  depotmaster 
told  us — the  train  "  would  not  be  along  there  for  an  hour  or  so." 

"  Come  with  me,  Molly,"  said  Veronica,  for  Max  seemed  busy 
iu  conversation  with  a  knot  of  friends.  Tyrell  watched  us  as 
we  left  the  group,  but  did  not  oft'er  to  accompany  us.  We  went 
alone  to  the  hotel,  and  Veronica  stood  again  in  its  dull  parlor. 

"  How  was  it,  Veronica  ?"  I  said.  "  What  induced  you  so 
suddenly  to  change  your  mind  ?" 

Veronica  looked  down.  *'  It  was  not  suddenly,  but  very  grad 
ually,  as  you  see  in  nature,  all  things  working  together  for  a 
result  which  comes  like  a  surprise  upon  you.  I  have  never  had 
even  a  girl's  passing  feeling  of  preference  for  any  one  but  Max ; 
but  oh !  Molly,  I  was  wounded  to  the  heart  by  a  conversation 
that  I  overheard  between  him  and  you  at  Castleton.  To  be 
accused  of  want  of  proper  pride — to  have  my  timid,  girlish  love, 
which  only  sought  to  do  him  good,  considered  forward — out  of 
place — was  worse  than  to  have  it  flung  back  in  my  face  and 
trampled  on.  To  have  him  say  of  me — of  me,  who  would — 

'  Have  laid  ray  soul  down  at  his  feet, 
That  images  of  fair  and  sweet, 
Might  walk  to  him  from  God  on  it,' 

that  I  was  the  barrier  to  his  happiness — and  that  though  he 
perhaps  might  marry  me,  he  could  never  give  me  his' love  !  Oh ! 
Molly,  as  I  think  of  it  the  shame  comes  burning  in  my  cheeks. 
It  seems  to  me  that  years  of  tenderness — and  Max  is  tender  and 
gentle  to  me  beyond  words — would  never  quite  soothe  my  bruised 
and  trampled  pride — that  pride  which  cannot  be  a  sin,  because  it  is 
given  to  a  woman  as  a  safeguard,  like  her  timidity.  I  came  out 
to  Virginia  not  only  to  be  beyond  the  possibility  of  injuring  his 

17* 


.394  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

interests  with  uncle  Lomax,  but  because  I  wished  to  be  where 
nothing  would  remind  me  of  '  that  old  love  whereon  \ve  both 
did  live,'  and  the  shock  by  which  all  ties  between  us  had  been 
broken.  But  Time  seemed  rather  to  wear  in  than  to  wear  out 
of  my  heart  that  strong  impression.  I  was  wretched.  The 
very  pain  that  accompanied  remembrance  served  to  fix  my 
thoughts  upon  old  times,  as  when  a  wound  is  sore  and  stiff  we 
bend  and  touch  the  aching  part  to  ascertain  how  much  we  suffer. 
God  forgive  me !  but  I  tried  to  wean  my  heart  by  taking  plea 
sure  in  the  attentions  of  other  men  until  I  found  I  had  done 
cruel  harm  to  one  who  should  have  been  too  good  to  have  given 
me  such  power — so  that  was  a  new  bitterness  still  flavored  with 
the  old  one.  And  then  you  came ; — and  I  believed  Max  only 
came  to  court  me  because  he  must  j  and  I  resolved  that  he  who 
had  once  accused  me  of  too  little  pride,  should  find  I  had  enough 
to  reject  such  mercenary  advances.  And  when  I  began  to  see 
how  much  my  refusal  might  injure  him  I  was  glad  to  give  him 
pain.  And  then  I  began  to  think  he  really  cared  for  me,  and 
that  he  was  really  good  and  true,  which  when  ho  first  arrived 
I  had  not  thought  him. 

1  Doubts  tossed  me  to  and  fro.' 

i  was  unutterably  wretched,  Molly.  Then  came  his  danger  in 
the  riot  at  Clairmont,  and  I  almost  forgot  pride  in  my  sense  of 
it.  And  lie  began  to  speak  to  me  again  upon  the  journey  to 
Front  Royal,  and  I  was  foolish,  Molly.  He  seemed  to  think 
that  I  cared  for  him,  and  then  my  pride  rose  up,  and  the  old 
feeling  came  back  that  he  would  ask  me  only  because  it  would 
be  unjust  to  my  interests,  under  the  terms  of  the  will,  not  to 
ask  me,  and  I  answered  scornfully,  and  so  we  parted.  And  then 
Max  would  not  mnko  DIP  miv  moro  advanrfs.  That  suit  of 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  395 

cousin  Williams's  came  up — lie  no  longer  thought  I  should 
accept  him,  and  he  would  not  risk  my  fortune  by  giving  me  the 
opportunity  of  refusing  him.  When  he  came  back — all  through 
that  dreadful  day  that  we  passed  in  this  room — it  was  my  prayer 
that  if  he  really  loved  me,  and  if  I  should  make  him  a  good 
wife,  he  would  come  back  and  ask  me  -,  and  the  hours  went  on — 
he  did  not  come,  and  I  would  not  make  any  advances.  Molly,  I 
don't  know  whether  I  blame  myself  even  now.  It  was  a  dread 
ful  day.  Pride  and  affection  struggled  for  the  mastery.  What 
ever  I  might  do  seemed  wrong.  I  tried  to  trust  that  God  would 
make  things  work  together  for  the  best ;  yet  every  lost  moment 
was  making  it  too  late,  until  it  was  so  very  late,  that  hope  was 
gone.  And  then  when  it  was  over — in  the  ajiguish  of  that 
moment  when  the  struggle  was  ended,  and  there  only  remained 
the  certainty  that  he  was  ruined  through  my  pride  and  foolish 
ness,  my  fortitude  of  purpose  all  gave  way,  and  I  said  something, — 

and  he  came  to  me,  and  then Oh !  Molly,  you 

know  all  the  rest,  Did  I  do  wrong  to  believe  that  after 
what  I  overheard  he  would  think  lightly  of  me  if  I  yielded 
readily  to  his  suit?  Must  pride  be  always  wrong,  Molly — 
womanly  pride  ?" 

As  she  said  this  Max  and  Tyrell  came  in  in  great  haste  to 
say  that  the  cars  were  already  in  sight.  We  hurried  down  to 
the  depot  without  further  words.  The  trai%  had  just  come  up, 
and  on  asking  the  conductor  why  it  arrived  before  its  time,  he 
said,  "They  was  a'  most  full  half  an  hour  earlier  than  usual  at 
Winchester,  and  they  thought  they  might  as  well  be  going." 

Tyrell  put  me  into  the  car,  and  took  both  my  hands  in  his 
and  pressed  them  close.  We  were  so  much  hurried  that  I 
believe  he  got  out  of  the  car  without  taking  leave  of  Max  01 
Veronica.  Tlio  la«t  we  saw  of  him  he  was  standing  by 


396  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Uncle  Pete  upon  the  platform ;  and  the  old  negro  was  bowing 
and  waving  his  old  hat  to  the  master  and  mistress,  whose  last 
directions  to  Warren  had  been  to  make  him  comfortable ;  for  the 
old  gentleman  had  married  off  of  the  estate  and  it  would 
have  been  small  mercy  to  have  given  him  a  freedom  which  would 
have  obliged  him  to  leave  the  State,  and  have  separated  him 
from  his  family. 

Tyrell  was  probably  not  conscious  of  the  expression  of  his 
face.  It  was  unutterably  miserable.  He  looked  very  ill  -and 
thin.  I  was  grieved  that  my  last  impression  of  him  should 
have  been  so  painful. 

We  travelled  to  Baltimore  and  thence  to  Philadelphia,  where 
we  stopped  two  days  in  order  to  see  Aunt  Saph  and  Uncle 
Christopher.  They  came  to  us  at  the  hotel  and  no  words  can 
express  their  satisfaction  and  delight  at  seeing  our  familiar 
faces.  But  after  a  while,  when  the  broad  smiles  upon  Aunt 
Soph's  face  had  worn  off,  we  began  to  perceive  she  was  dejected. 

She  was  full  of  complaints  about  "mean  white  folks."  All 
her  aristocratic  prejudices  had  had  their  fiir  rubbed  up  the  wrong 
way  by  her  residence  in  Philadelphia.  She  was  cooking  at  a 
boarding-house,  and  heartily  despised  the  people  she  was  work 
ing  for ;  while  Uncle  Christopher  was  out  of  employment. 

"  Laws  honeys,"  Hid  Aunt  Saph,  "  can't  even  have  my  chil'ens 
in  de  house  with  me.  'Bliged  lock  'em  up  when  I'se  'way  feared 
o'  harm.  Oh !  Miss  Veronica,  so  you  done  left  'em  all  in  ole 
Virginia.  Do'n  see  hows  you  could !  Wisht  I  war  back  in  de 
ole  State.  Nebber  done  no  good  sence  we  corned  'way  from  thar. 
De  Lord  He  knows  if  I'se  gwine  live  to  see  ole  age  in  dis  here 
northern  country." 

We  inquired  at  some  length  into  her  grievances.     They  did 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  397 

not  seem  to  be  great.  She  had  a  tolerable  place,  and  could  not 
have  expected  to  have  her  children  squatting  about  a  northern 
kitchen ;  and  Uncle  Christopher  had  formed  a  connection  with 
a  Baptist  church,  and  had  had  work  since  he  came  to  Philadel 
phia.  At  that  moment  he  was  out  of  employment,  and  winter 
was  coming  on,  and  Aunt  Saph's  six  dollars  a  month  was  little 
enough  to  support  the  family  upon,  but  that  was  no  more  than 
every  laboring  man  must  expect  occasionally. 

He  seemed  much  more  contented  than  Aunt  Saph.  "  Thorns 
an'  briars  you  knows,  Mas'  Max,  dey  grows  on  dis  earth  ebbery 
whars.  Nebber  seen  no  place  free  from  'em  yet.  GTOAVS  in  ole 
Virginia  like  they  does  here." 

"  Jus  Avisht  I'se  back  agin,  old  man !  Wisht  I  war  back  !" 
was  the  burden  of  Aunt  Saph. 

At  last  Veronica  proposed  to  send  them  back. 

Their  faces  brightened.  "  Ain't  no  place  in  dis  worl,"  said 
Uncle  Christopher,  "  like  ole  Virginia." 

"  But  your  children  ?"  cried  Max,  "  they  will  be  slaves  again 
if  you  go  back  to  Virginia." 

"  Do'n  want  'em  to  be  slaves,  Mas'  Max,  but  do'n  want  bring 
'em  up  here."  Then  after  a  pause.  "  Dunno  as  de  laws  '11  let  us 
go  back  dar.  Dunno  as  de  gemmen  '11  like  to  hab  us  come  back. 
Nebber  welcomes  black  folks  back  when  djK's  done  run  away." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Max.  i^lrhat  can  be  done, 
Veronica  ?"  ) 

"  "Write  to  cousin  Tyrell,"  I  said,  "  and  ask  him  to  arrange  it." 

It  was  a  piece  of  advice  taken  by  Max,  and  we  quitted  Phila 
delphia,  leaving  Uncle  Christopher  and  his  wife  with  a  half  hope 
that  before  Christmas  they  might  be  suffered  to  return  to  the 
way  of  life  in  which  they  had  been  brought  up  amongst  their 
old  friends,  and  in  their  own  countrv.  Thev  had  not  been  fitted 


398  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

by  previous  training  for  an  independent  position.  They  had 
been  accustomed  to  depend  on  whites,  and  all  their  virtues  fitted 
them  for  dependence.  They  were  admirable  servants,  and 
respectable  members  of  society  in  their  own  place,  but  they 
were  entirely  out  of  their  element  when  called  upon  to  stand 
alone. 

"  This  is  the  case,"  wrote  Tyrell,  "  with  very  many  of  our 
better  class  of  Virginia  servants,  when  they  find  themselves 
removed  from  old  associations.  They  do  well,  if  they  can  take  a 
master  or  mistress  with  them  into  freedom,  so  long  as  they  keep 
up  the  old  relations ;  fugitive  slaves  do  better  at  the  North  than 
manumitted  ones.  In  the  first  place,  Bacon's  rule  about  bad 
marriages  contracted  without  friends'  consent,  applies  equally  to 
them.  They  will '  be  sure  to  make  good  their  own  folly.'  In  the 
next  place  a  fugitive  slave  is  sure  to  have  had  a  bad,  or  at  the 
best  a  careless  and  indifferent  master ;  besides  which,  it  takes  a 
large  amount  of  spirit,  energy,  and  earnestness  of  purpose  to 
effect  an  escape  from  a  slave  state.  Those  who  have  accom 
plished  it  have  shown  some  of  the  qualities  that  make  poor 
servants  but  good  freemen.  And  lastly  the  fugitive  finds  friends 
and  assistance  among  a  large  class  of  persons  at  the  North,  who 
have  little  sympathy  for  the  emancipated  slave — always  pining 
like  Aunt  Saph,  aftQj^ie  aristocratic  associations  of  his  earlier 
days.  Remember  ^Vit  was  all  Moses  and  Pharaoh  together 
could  do  to  wean  theTsraelites  from  a  taste  for  Egypt." 

Tyrell  went  on  to  Philadelphia,  and  had  great  trouble  in 
arranging  their  return  to  "  ole  Virginny."  I  think  his  expedition 
had  the  advantage  of  having  done  him  good,  for  his  letter  was 
written  in  more  cheerful  spirits,  and  had  a  gleam  of  his  old  fun 
in  it  when  he  described  the  difficulty  with  which  he  smuggled 
his  proteges  out  of  freedom  into  slavery. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  399 

Max  was  mortified  at  this  untoward  result  of  liis  first  experi 
ment  in  amending  "  the  institution,"  and  could  only  write  to 
Tyrell  that  he  intended  to  give  Uncle  Christopher's  children  the 
freedom  they  were  entitled  to  when  they  came  of  age,  and  that 
he  hoped  they  would  be  brought  up  in  such  a  way  as  to  hare  a 
higher  appreciation  of  the  blessing  he  intended  to  bestow  upon 
them. 

"  You  are  right,"  wrote  Tyrell  in  reply.  "  You  are  beginning 
at  the  right  end  of  this  subject  of  emancipation.  We  of  the 
South  have  John  the  Baptist's  mission  to  perform — '  preparing 
the  way '  for  means  of  future  deliverance.  We  have  to  call  our 
own  age  to  repentance  for  participation  in,  or  careless  indiffer 
ence  to,  the  miseries,  and  sins,  and  evils,  engendered  by  this 
institution.  And  if  in  individual  cases  we  attempt  emancipation, 
let  us  '  prepare  the  way '  for  that  also,  by  such  previous  care  and 
instruction  as  may  fit  the  objects  of  our  bounty  for  the  new 
station  of  life  which  we  assign  to  them.  Nor  does  the  duty  of 
a  master  who  .emancipates  his  slaves  rest  here.  No  Christian 
man,  who  is  a  slave-owner,  can  reconcile  the  possession  of  such 
property  with  the  instincts  of  his  conscience,  unless  he  looks 
upon  it  as  a  stewardship  which  binds  him  to  consult  the  true 
good  of  those  committed  to  his  care.  Emancipation  does  not 
set  him  free  from  this  responsibility.  It  is^fct  enough  to  trans 
plant  a  family  of  helpless  servants  out  °|^B  homes  in  which 
they  have  been  sheltered — friendless  anc^^rouseless,  ignorant, 
simple,  and  dependent — over  Mason  and  Dixon's  line.  Cheap 
benevolence — I  mean  the  benevolence  that  contents  itself  with  a 
single  effort,  whether  of  alms-giving  or  of  emancipation — is  apt 
to  do  small  service.  The  duty  of  the  master  to  the  slave  he 
would  emancipate,  obliges  him  to  send  him  forth  piovided  with 
a  trade  by  which  to  live,  and  such  instruction  as  inav  fit  him  to 


400  OUR     COC SIN     VERONICA. 

get  an  honest  living.  "Were  this  the  case,  we  might  not  hear 
such  complaints  from  the  free  states  of  negro  crime  and  pauper 
ism.  Beside  this,  his  benevolence,  or  rather  his  duty,  in  this 
case — (a  duty  incurred  by  his  benevolence) — must  contemplate 
the  future.  In  the  sight  of  God,  he  who  has  reaped  a  profit  from 
slavery,  or  won  men's  praise  for  his  benevolent  self-sacrifice  in 
emancipation,  will  continue  to  be  responsible  for  the  well-doing 
of  the  slaves  he  has  sent  into  a  free  country,  lie  should  keep 
his  eye  upon  them,  and,  if  possible,  raise  up  friends  for  them, 
and  as  opportunity  shall  offer,  should  promote  their  interests, 
long  after  those  interests  have  ceased  to  be  his  own.  We  have 
no  right  to  tear  away  the  prop  and  then  expect  the  creeping 
plant  will  flourish  and  do  well  without  some  pains  or  training. 
I  do  not  think  that  a  certain  moral  obligation  of  assistance 
and  protection  ever  ceases  to  be  binding  on  the  master  of 
an  emancipated  slave.  The  negro  tacitly  acknowledges  this 
bond  to  be  of  permanent  continuance.  You  very  rarely  find  a 
respectable  emancipated  southern  servant  in  a .  free  state  who 
does  not  keep  up  a  sort  of  feudal  feeling  of  retainership  towards 
his  '  old  master.' " 


END    OF   THE    SECOND    PART. 


PART    THIRD. 


Still  through  the  paltry  stir  and  strife 

Glows  down  the  wished  Ideal, 
And  longing  moulds  in  clay,  what  life 

Carves  in  the  marble  Real. 

J.  R.  LOWELL. 

Think'sl  thou  thy  work  at  an  end,  and  thy  discipline  perfect  ? 

Other  pangs  still  remain,  other  labors  and  sorrows  ; 

Other  the  crises  of  Fate  than  the  crises  of  Being. 

Let  me  round  my  words  with  one  brief  admonition  : 

Take  for  the  bearings  of  life,  thine  own  or  another's, 

This  motto,  blazoned  on  cross  and  on  altar, "  GOD'S  PATIENCE." 

MRS.  S.  Or.  Ilovr&^fassion  Flowers. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  113 


PART    III 


CHAPTER    I. 

Oh  !  square  thyself  for  use — a  stone  that  may 
Fit  in  the  world  is  left  not  on  the  way. 

PERSIAN  PROVERB. 

Poor  indeed  thou  must  be,  if  around  thee 

Thou  no  ray  of  hope  or  joy  canst  throw — 
If  no  silken  cord  of  love  hath  bound  thee 

To  some  little  world  through  weal  or  woe. 

Miss  WINSLOW. 

WE  made  a  stormy  passage  across  the  Atlantic,  in  the  middle 
of  November,  and  as  the  newly-married  pair  stayed  a  week  or 
two  with  our  father  (then  quartered  in  North  Wales)  it  wanted 
but  a  few  days  of  Christmas  when  we  arrived»t  Castleton. 

More  than  two  miles  away  from  it,  we  heBi  the  merry  Eng 
lish  bells  ring  out  their  chime  of  welcome ;  and  the  enthusiastic 
villagers  had  put  a  green  arch,  decked  with  shining  holly,  over 
the  bridge,  and  cheered  us  as  we  passed  under  it. 

Max  stopped  the  carriage,  and  I  loved  him  for  the  tear  that 
I  saw  glitter  on  his  eye-lashes,  as  he  stood  up  and  took  off  his 
hat,  and  waved  an  answer  to  their  welcome. 

"  God  bless  you  my  good  people — one  and  all.     Thank  you 


404  OUR      COUSIN      VEKONICA. 

for  your  kind  welcome  to  me  and  to  your  lady  :  you  know  her 
of  old." 

"  Yes !  and  God  bless  her !"  from  the  people  around  the  car 
riage.  "  Three  cheers  for  our  lady." 

"  I  hope,"  said  Max,  "  to  be  always  your  good  landlord ;  but 
if  I  should  ever  fail  in  doing  what  is  just  and  right,  you  must 
seek  a  friend  in  her,  and  she  will  use  her  influence  for  you." 

"  Hurrah  !"  from  the  crowd. 

"  Drive  on,"  said  Max. 

We  swept  through  the  iron  gates,  and  through  the  long  oak 
avenue.  Veronica  was  leaning  forward,  flushed  with  eager 
expectation. 

"  Mrs.  Mayhew  is  there,  dear  Max,  and  all  the  rest  of  them. 
The  only  changes  seem  to  me  to  be  in  us.  And  there  is  Miss 
Alicia — and  I  see  the  Rector !" 

There  was  no  stately  presentation  of  the  bride  to  the  assem 
bled  servants,  for  Veronica  springing  out  of  the  carriage  as  soon 
as  it  stopped,  was  among  them,  shaking  hands  with  all  of  them 
— more  as  if  she  had  been  amongst  a  crowd  of  colored  servants 
at  the  South,  than  as  if  she  remembered  the  etiquettes  that  Eng 
lish  custom  had  set  about  her  dignity  as  mistress  and  matron. 

She  had  used  up  her  queenly  dignity  during  her  courtship, 
and  since  her  mAyige,  had  thrown  the  stiffness  of  those  days 

She  was  as  gay  as  a  bird — the  merry,  loving,  winning  Veron 
ica  of  the  old  happy  years. 

"I  shall  do  better  by-and-by,  dear  Max,"  she  said.  "I  shall 
take  up  my  dignities,  and  make  a  very  stately  mistress  of  Castle- 
ton." 

"I  would  not  have  you  any  better,  nor  any  thing,  my 
sweet  one,  but  what  you  are,"  replied  Max,  catching  her  hands 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  405 

and  drawing  her  to  himself,  as  they  went  together  into  the  great 
drawing-room,  which  had  been  opened  for  the  occasion. 

"  Oh  !  Max  !"  she  said,  Avhen  she  saw  the  bow  window,  draw 
ing  away  from  his  side. 

"  No,  no,"  said  he,  laughing,  "  do  not  look  that  way,  love, 
but  this." 

He  drew  a  large  red  chair  up  to  the  marble  table — the  very 
chair  into  which  on  that  unhappy  evening  he  had  thrown  him 
self;  and  again  placing  himself  in  it,  and  holding  both  her 
hands  in  his,  he  made  her  stand  before  him. 

"Now,  Veronica,"  said  he,  "I  will  tell  you  an  old  story, 
a  story  which  you  like  me  to  repeat,  if  you  will  tell  me  once 
again  you  love  me." 

"  Let  go  my  hands,  then,"  said  she. 

"Very  good,"  said  he,  grasping  her  dress,  "say  it  prettily. 
Brush  back  my  hair  from  my  face — just  so,  with  those  two  little 
white  hands." 

And  as  they  lay  upon  his  glossy  chestnut  locks,  she  stooped 
and  whispered  the  assurance  that  he  asked,  with  a  half  coy  look. 

He  sprang  up  in  his  own  quick  way,  and  caught  her  in  his 
arms,  and  gave  her,  ere  she  could  prevent  him,  more  than  one  of 
his  rough  kisses,  exclaiming, 

"  When  you  say  that,  you  make  me  the  happiest  fellow  upon 
earth,  though  we  have  been  married  two  Boney-moons.  Now 
come  and  see  old  Luath,  and  the  swannies,  and  the  pony." 

The  venerable  hound,  a  very  Old  Parr  among  dogs,  had  never 
quitted  the  stable  since  Veronica  left ;  but  he  knew  her  at  once, 
and  to  the  admiration  of  every  one,  followed  her  to  the  house, 
and  resumed  his  old  place  at  her  side. 

That  evening  in  the  gloaming,  she,  and  Max,  and  Luath  went 
together  to  the  church-yard.  They  took  the  key  of  the  church 


406  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

with  them,  and  stood  long  in  the  chancel  over  Uncle  Lomax's 
tomh.  Then  they  came  out  and  visited  Mammy's  humbler 
grave ;  and  Veronica  said,  as  she  leant  lovingly  upon  the  arm 
of  Max, 

"  Everything  I  love  is  at  Castleton.  You  could  not  have 
chosen  any  wife  whose  affections  were  so  completely  centered  in 
your  home.  I  was  so  unhappy  all  the  time  I  was  away,  that  I 
formed  no  attachment  that  it  wounded  me  to  sever.  There  is 
poor  Molly,  like  a  grape-vine  clinging  to  everything  that  comes 
within  her  reach,  but  I  am  ivy  and  was  made  to  grow  upon  the 
walls  of  Castleton." 

"  Poor  Molly,"  thus  they  had  already  learned  to  call  me.  I 
was  indeed  a  grape-vine,  torn  from  its  supports,  and  trampled 
under  foot.  Our  roving  life  had  not  enabled  me  to  form  ties  of 
locality.  I  was  like  a  flower  transplanted  constantly  from  pot  to 
pot.  No  sooner  did  my  roots  accustom  themselves  to  the  soil 
and  begin  to  strike,  than  I  was  torn  up  and  moved  elsewhere. 
I  had  naturally  a  great  deal  of  adhesiveness  and  suffered  terribly 
for  want  of  a  home-feeling,  as  we  moved  about  from  garrison  to 
garrison.  I  had  a  strong  attachment  to  Castleton ;  and  Max 
and  Veronica  urged  me  to  live  with  them,  but  my  heart  asked 
for  occupation.  The  charities  and  interests  of  Castleton  could 
be  sufficiently  managed  by  Veronica  and  Miss  Alicia.  Veronica 
liked  to  see  me  there,  but  she  was  just  as  happy  in  my  absence 
— my  presence  supplied  no  want  in  my  brother's  home. 

My  father's  household  was  not  peaceful  nor  orderly.  Six 
children  of  his  second  marriage  were  growing  up,  and  Mrs. 
Mandeville  was  more  their  mother  than  his  wife ;  it  seemed  to 
me  as  if  in  my  duty  to  my  father,  lay  my  one  tie  to  existence — as 
if  wherever  he  was  were  the  germ  of  home. 

I  devoted  myself  to  him.     I  tried  to  make  him  comfortable. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  407 

I  tried  to  soften  the  rude  boisterousness  of  growing  boys,  for  his 
sake,  and  teach  order  and  refinement  to  the  little  girls,  who, 
with  their  hair  about  their  ears,  were  always  looking  out  of  the 
window  after  the  officers.  I  used  to  write  a  great  deal  for  my 
father,  who  called  me  his  "  home-secretary,"  and  it  was  in  that 
way  that  after  a  time  I  became  acquainted  with  cases  of  distress, 
and  began  to  take  an  interest  in  the  soldiers'  waves  and  children. 

He  took  me  on  his  arm  to  slatternly  low  houses  in  the  suburbs 
where  they  lived,  and  taught  me  that  to  persons  of  that  class 
our  influence  may  be  more  useful  than  our  money.  He  taught 
me  that  the  charity  which  is  most  largely  blessed  is  the  charity 
of  time. 

Before  long  I  gained  the  hearts  of  a  good  many  of  the  women 
connected  with  the  regiment,  a  disorderly,  unthrifty  class,  but 
"  therefore  there  is  so  much  the  more  need  that  Ave  should  teach 
them  rightly  to  manage  what  they  have,"  said  my  father. 

"  You  women  all  know  something  about  cookery  and  house 
hold  matters,  I  suppose,  and  you  can  do  them  more  good  by 
teaching  them  good  management  and  thrift  than  by  giving  them 
money.  I  have  a  strong  dislike  to  the  indiscriminate  distribution 
of  alms." 

So,  though  I  carried  but  little  money  in  my  purse,  I  went 
among  them  chiefly  on  the  authority  of  the  colonel's  daughter, 
and  Avas  surprised  to  see  how  glad  they  were  to  welcome  me, 
even  where  I  feared  at  first  I  might  be  considered  an  intruder. 
As  soon  as  they  believed  I  was  their  friend  they  brought  mo  all 
their  troubles  with  a  sort  of  dependence  upon  me  as  a  superior 
authority.  I  did  not  give  much  money,  as  I  said,  but  I  soon  saw 
a  great  change.  "  Dear  papa,"  I  exclaimed  one  day,  laughing 
at  some  news  from  America,  about  a  Womens'  Comrention,  "  I 
have  more  than  all  those  women  are  contending  for.  I  have  no 


408  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

diploma  it  is  true,  but  I  can  practice  medicine  to  what  extent  I 
like,  for  though  I  chiefly  preach  the  soap-and-water-cure  and 
total  abstinence  from  Godfrey  and  Daffy,  my  people  would  swal 
low  any  drug  I  recommended  them,  and  quite  frighten  me  by 
receiving  my  opinions  as  authority.  As  to  preaching ! — I  read 
the  Bible  constantly  from  house  to  house,  with  a  few  words  of 
explanation,  and  as  I  read  the  neighbors  gather  round  me  in 
sick-chambers ;  I  teach  a  Sunday  class  of  great  boys,  who  are 
almost  men ;  and  women  eager  to  be  taught,  frequent  my  Bible 
classes.  Dear  papa,  these  people  have  been  like  sheep  having 
no  shepherd.  It  has  been  a  field  in  which  the  enemy  sowed 
tares  and  no  one  reaped  the  wheat.  Now  almost  all  of  them 
are  going  to  some  church,  and  the  children  are  baptized  and 
sent  to  school.  Papa,  it  frightens  me  to  think  how  little  I  have 
labored  and  how  much  has  been  done." 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  disparage  your  zeal  or  usefulness,  my 
daughter,"  he  replied,  "  but  I  told  you  from  the  first  that  if  they 
learned  to  look  upon  you  as  their  friend,  no  one  could  measure 
the  influence  you  would  exercise  through  their  appreciation  of 
your  social  position.  The  English  mind  is  unduly  influenced 
by  adventitious  superiority,  and  when  that  is  all  on  the  side  of 
religion,  virtue,  and  improvement,  you  cannot  estimate  how  much 
it  elevates  people  of  the  lower  class  to  be  brought  into  contact 
with  persons  of  higher  rank  in  society." 

When  I  first  came  from  Virginia,  I  learned  that  the  report  of 
Mr.  Howard's  engagement  was  true.  I  hoped  I  should  escape 
hearing  more  about  the  marriage  than  the  mere  announcement 
of  it  in  the  London  paper.  But  unfortunately,  the  editor  of  the 
county  journal  of  the  town  near  which  the  Howards  lived,  was 
under  obligations  for  kindness  shown  him  by  my  father;  and 
whenever  there  was  any  thing  of  especial  interest  in  his  paper, 


O  U  K      COUSIN      V  E  R  O  X  I  C  A  .  409 

he  sent  us  a  copy.  Thus  I  read,  almost  against  my  will,  of  the 
feast  for  all  the  tenantry  at  Howard  Park,  of  "  the  gallant  bride 
groom,"  and  "the  whole  roast  ox,"  and  "the  lovely  bride,"  an-.! 
"attendant  train  of  bridesmaids,"  and  "the  hymeneal  altar.'' 
This  was  about  six  months  after  our  return — before  any  answer 
of  peace  had  come  to  my  wild  question, 

"  What  has  God  given  me  His  fatal  gift  of  life  for  ?  Why 
am  I  taught  to  thank  Him  for  creation  and  preservation  ?" 

Thank  God,  who  gave  me  interests  and  occupations,  and  led 
me  through  "  the  duty  that  was  nearest  to  me,"  into  a  wider 
range  of  interests,  and  let  me  see  the  fruit  of  my  labors — a 
privilege  I  did  not  merit ;  for  I  marred  my  own  share  in  the 
work  by  a  restless  impatience  of  spirit,  which  carried  selfishness 
into  the  vineyard,  where  I  labored, 

"  Not  for  love — yet  nothing  for  reward," 

but  for  the  luxury  of  labor — for  the  satisfaction  of  crowding  out 
the  thoughts  that  would  look  backward — for  the  gain  of  doing 
journey-work — for  the  privilege  of  shutting  out  all  view  of  that 
bleak,  lonely  path  which  I  saw  stretching  towards  the  sunset, 
over  the  barren  moorland  of  the  future. 

My  brother,  be  not  exquisite  to  cast 
The  uncertain  shadow  of  uncertain  evils; 
For  grant  they  be  so — while  they  rest  unknown, 
What  need  a  man  forestall  his  date  of  grief, 
And  run  to  meet  what  he  would  most  avoid. 

May  God  forgive  me  that  despondency !  I  am  punished  for 
it  every  day,  when  I  look  into  my  glass  and  see  the  silver  streaks 
in  the  hair  that  should  be  still  all  brown  upon  my  forehead. 

My  dearest  father's  health  began  to  fail,  and  I  waited  on  him 
assiduously.  Every  day  drew  us  closer  to  each  other.  There 

18 


410  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

was  so  much  of  his  inner  life  I  shared,  which  was  not  guessed 
at  by  his  wife  or  younger  children ! 

His  tall  form  began  to  show  some  signs  of  age.  I  heard 
somebody  call  him  "  an  old  gentleman,"  and  was  inexpressibly 
shocked  at  his  being  so  described.  The  surgeon  of  the  regiment 
recommended  change,  and  we  went  down  to  Castleton.  It  was 
glorious  autumn,  and  those  days  were  rest  and  peace.  On  the 
very  last  evening  of  his  life,  he  walked  with  us  through  the 
woods,  and  was  talking  of  Virginia.  His  thoughts  strangely 
overleaped  the  sixty  years  that  lay  between  that  hour  of  calm 
twilight,  and  the  period  that  they  dwelt  upon,  as  he  told  us 
stories  we  had  never  heard  before,  about  Stonehenge,  his  mother, 
and  his  boyhood. 

That  night  he  died  quietly.  I  went  into  his  room  to  wake 
him.  with  a  kiss,  and  found  he  slept  the  sleep  that  knows  no 
waking! 

They  buried  him  at  Castleton,  on  the  estate  which  should 
have  been  his  own — he  who  was  born  to  the  fortunes  of  a  prince, 
and  owned  so  little  beyond  his  pay  as  a  lieutenant-colonel ! 

Max  and  Veronica  urged  me  to  live  with  them ;  but  they 
were  too  happy.  I  could  not  add  to,  nor  take  from,  their  happi 
ness  by  my  determination.  Their  eldest  little  boy,  Charles 
Lomax  Mandeville,  could  totter  alone  along  the  floor  of  the  long 
drawing-room,  and  hide  behind  the  draperies  of  the  bow-win 
dow,  and  play  at  peep-bo  with  his  baby  sister  Thomasine,  whom 
he  looked  upon  with  naive  curiosity  and  boyish  pride.  My 
place  was  not  at  Castleton  ;  I  was  wanted  at  home. 

I  never  went  back  to  the  regiment.  I  never  saw  those 
soldiers'  wives  who  called  me  friend,  but  I  heard  that  others 
took  my  place,  and  that  where  I  alone  had  "  sown  in  tears," 
three  or  four  entered  into  the  field  of  mv  labors.  The  work  was 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  411 

in  better  hands,  and  better  done.  I  did  not  deserve  to  be  God's 
instrument,  because  I  had  begun  it  so  selfishly. 

I  never  saw  my  boys  again — poor  fellows,  each  laboring  over 
his  verse  of  Scripture;  great  fellows — almost  men — in  semi-regi 
mental  dress,  with  touching  humility  getting  little  fellows,  who 
could  read  better  than  they,  to  prepare  them  for  their  turn,  by 
telling  them  the  big  words  of  the  lesson.  My  last  lesson 
(strange  coincidence !)  had  been  from  the  twentieth  chapter  of 
Acts,  "  And  now  brethren,  I  know  that  ye  all,  among  whom  I 
have  gone  teaching  the  kingdom  of  God,  shall  see  my  face  no 
more."  They  looked  at  me  with  their  intent  round  eyes,  and 
interrupted  me  with  strange,  irrelevant  questions,  such  as  they 
used  to  put  to  their  best  friend ;  and  we  none  of  us  were  con 
scious  we  were  reading  prophecy.  An  officer  took  charge  of 
of  them  after  I  left — for,  thank  God,  the  spirit  of  Christian  use 
fulness  has  of  late  years  crept  in,  even  among  the  officers  of  our 
regiments — and  he  wrote  me  of  their  progress  from  time  to 
time. 

My  father's  widow  moved  to  London.  There  had  been  talk 
before  he  died  of  sending  the  boys  to  the  London  University. 
Max  undertook  their  schooling  and  establishment  on  their  enter 
ing  into  life,  and  I  thought  I  might  best  do  my  duty  to  my 
father,  by  living  at  home  and  superintending  the  domestic  dis 
cipline  of  his  family. 

I  have  told  in  another  place,  of  those  dreary  days  when  I 
stood  at  the  window  of  my  attic-chamber,  watching  sunset  or 
moon-light,  and  thinking  about  that  last  bright  sun-light  spot  in 
my  sad  life — my  visit  to  the  Valley  of  Virginia.  I  yearned  in 
spirit  over  the  recollections  of  that  time.  Its  memories  were  "  dear 
as  remembered  kisses  after  death"  are  to  the  mourner.  I  had 
tried  to  keep  up  a  correspondence  with  my  cousins,  but  it  is  not 


412  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

in  the  nature  of  Virginians  to  write  letters.  If  there  were  not  a 
mixture  of  foreign  blood  in  the  old  Dominion,  and  if  there  were 
no  candidates  for  office,  I  believe  there  would  be  little  incon 
venience  felt  from  shutting  up  the  Post  Offices  all  over  Virginia. 

Cousin  Virginia  wrote  me  at  long  intervals,  and  Phil  sent  me 
a  letter  once  or  twice.  But  Phil  was  not  funny  upon  paper. 
Indeed,  as  I  learned  afterwards,  he  got  Mr.  Morrisson  to  write 
him  rough  copies  of  these  epistles  which  the  family  called 
"First  and  second  Philippians,"  and  paid  him  for  the  first  in  a 
second-hand  white  wraistcoat,  and  for  the  second  in  a  chain  made 
from  the  hair  of  Miss  Jane  Dawes,  which  he  kept  on  a  shelf,  in 
an  old  boot,  which  contained  his  keepsakes  and  valuable 
papers. 

I  should  have  learned  little  enough  of  what  was  going  on 
over  the  Ridge,  had  it  not  been  for  the  letters  of  Tyrell.  lie 
wrote  to  Max  very  regularly  about  Oatlands.  Max  abhorred 
writing,  and  would  constantly  enclose  'the  letters  to  our  father, 
during  his  lifetime,  begging  him  to  get  "the  Home  Secretary," 
to  answer  them  and  say,  "  Yes,  yes,  yes,"  to  every  proposal. 
And  thus  a  sort  of  desultory  intercourse  was  established  between 
me  and  Tyrell. 

Strongest  and  dearest  of  all  my  recollections  of  Virginia  were 
my  remembrances  of  Tyrell.  As  the  memory  of  Harry  Howard 
faded  into  the  back-ground  of  my  life,  the  image  of  Tyrell,  as 
that  of  the  best  and  noblest  man  whom  I  had  ever  intimately 
known,  came  out  in  strong  relief.  Even  in  the  days  of  my  love 
I  had  acknowledged  his  superiority.  I  had  never  compared  him 
with  Mr.  Howard  then,  because  I  shrank  from  the  comparison, 
but  now  as  my  love  for  the  one  faded,  my  appreciation  of  the 
other  brightened.  I  grew  .angry  with  mvself  for  thinking 
so  much  of  Tyrell.  I  chid  myself  as  Pharaoh  chid  his  bonds- 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  413 

men  with  "  Ye  are  idle — ye  are  idle,"  and  plunged  into  more 
work  than  I  could  get  through.  But  to  have  known  a  truly 
good  and  noble  man  makes  an  epoch  in  one's  life.  It  is  a  thing 
to  thank  God  for.  I  went  more  cheerily  about  my  work  in  life, 
when  I  remembered  that  cousin,  whose  path  was  so  widely 
different  from  mine,  but  whose  example  animated  me  in  another 
field  of  duty.  I  was  more  hopeful  as  to  the  result  of  human 
effort,  when  I  thought  that  in  the  world  (to  me  unknown)  there 
might  be  other  men  like  cousin  Tyrell.  And  when  I  thought  of 
"  the  shade  by  which  his  life  was  crossed,"  of  his  deep,  manly 
love  (so  nobly  overcome  by  unselfishness)  for  the  woman  who 
had  preferred  a  man  whom  I  could  not  but  acknowledge  was 
less  worthy,  I  learned  that  success  is  not  what  God  deems  the 
best  prize  of  life,  and  that  "  whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chas- 
teneth,"  answering  our  prayers  and  aspirations  not  according  to 
our  will,  but  to  our  well,  as  St.  Augustine  hath  it. 

If  God  did  not  give  Tyrell  happiness,  why  should  he  give 
happiness  to  me  ?  And  the  object  upon  which  the  passion 
and  the  tenderness  of  Tyrell's  noble  nature  had  been  spent,  was 
worthy  all  the  wealth  of  gold,  and  frankincense,  and  myrrh,  his 
love  had  lavished  at  her  feet,  and  which  she  stepped  on — lightly 
it  is  true — and  passed  by  disregarded.  But  Harry  Howard  .  .  .  .  ? 
Oh !  doubt — Oh  !  dreadful  doubt — that  now  arose  on  the  hori 
zon  of  my  life.  I  had  made  my  venture  for  happiness  and  it  was 
wrecked. — Was  the  boat  upon  which  I  had  embarked  it  sea 
worthy  ?  Could  it  have  brought  me  back  the  golden  summer 
fruits  for  which  I  pined  ?  Would  it  have  been  better  to  have 
seen  it  wrecked  in  sight  of  port,  and,  having  married,  for 
the  sad  remainder  of  my  life  been  forced  to  draw  up  from 
the  ocean  of  Time — that  ocean  salt  with  human  tears — frag 
ments  of  stranded  hopes,  from  which  to  eke  out  an  unhappy  des- 


414  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

tiny  ?  My  little  bark  had  foundered  out  at  sea ; — she  had  gone 
down  all  standing ;  her  white  sails  glistering  with  the  summer 
light,  and  "  not  a  wrack  was  left,"  to  connect  the  present  with 
that  sudden  miser)*. 

It  was  a  warm  spring  day  in  May,  and  London  glowed  in  all 
the  brightness  of  the  season.  The  parks  and  gorgeous  Regent 
street  teemed  with  the  press  and  turmoil  of  human  existence. 
Max  and  Veronica  had  come  to  town  for  a  few  weeks,  and  had 
taken  rooms  in  a  hotel  in  St.  James  street.  Max  had  long 
wanted  to  have  his  beautiful  wife  presented  at  court,  and 
Veronica  had  always  shrunk  from  the  expense  and  turmoil  of  a 
London  season,  but  now  that  she  had  yielded  to  her  husband's 
wish,  she  was  anxious  to  gratify  him  by  her  appearance,  and 
took  a  thousand-fold  more  pains  and  care  in  selecting  a  court- 
dress  that  should  show  off  her  beauty  to  advantage,  than  ever 
she  had  done  in  her  unmarried  days  to  win  his  admiration. 
We  had  consulted  milliners,  and  chosen  feathers,  and  held  com 
mittees  of  taste  over  point  d1  Anyleterre  and  point  d'Alenfon, 
till  I  was  tired  of  my  post  of  consulting  counsel. 

The  important  day  had  come,  and  as  I  was  to  make  my 
appearance  at  Veronica's  toilette  at  twelve  o'clock,  T  gave  my 
little  sisters  a  whole  holiday.  I  was  not  sorry  to  have  the  early 
hours  of  the  morning  to  myself,  and  opening  my  desk  began  to 
look  over  some  papers.  Among  the  contents  of  that  desk  were 
the  half-dozen  letters  I  had  had  from  cousin  Tyrell.  As  I  sat 
looking  them  over — arranging  them  according  to  their  dates — 
proudly  and  almost  fondly  lingering  over  the  justness  of  the 
views  he  held,  or  watched  the  sparkle  of  froth  upon  the  wave — 
good  sensa  made  graceful  by  his  playful  fancy — I  did  not  notice 
that  my  little  brother  Marmaduke  was  looking  into  the  desk,  and 
had  possessed  himself  of  a  paper. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  415 

"  Don't  Clara !  if  you  push  so  you  shan't  look,"  he  cried. 

"  What  have  you  there,  Duke  ?"  said  I. 

Duke  opened  the  paper  and  Clara  snatched  at  it  at  the  same 
moment. 

"  Oh !  Clara  give  me  that,"  I  cried.  "  It  is  a  little  yellow 
pimpernel,  which  I  value  very  much.  It  was  given  me  in 
Virginia,  by  your  cousin  Tyrell." 

"  Come,"  I  resumed,  when  Clara  had  restored  the  pimpernel, 
seeing  they  were  not  not  likely  to  be  quiet,  and  that  their 
quarrel  had  broken  the  bubble  of  my  reverie,  "  I  will  tell  you 
a  story  about  cousin  Tyrell."  And  the  children,  who  liked 
nothing  better  than  to  hear  about  my  Virginia  visit,  gathered 
around  me  eagerly. 

I  told  them  about  our  journey  to  Harper's  Ferry — I  described 
the  American  railway  cars — I  told  them  how  the  railroad  track 
was  scooped  out  from  the  mountain  side — and  then  I  told  them 
of  Harper's  Ferry,  and  of  our  meeting  with  cousin  Tyrell — of 
Jefferson's  rock — and  of  our  pic-nic  dinner. 

It  was  a  great  pleasure  thus  to  talk  or  Tyrell.  To  these 
children  to  whom  I  spoke  of  him  as  their  cousin,  I  could  dwell 
upon  his  manliness  and  goodness  without  risk  of  misconstruction, 
lie  was  little  more  real  to  them  than  a  prince  in  the  Arabian 
Nights'  Entertainments,  and  I  pleased  myself  by  dwelling  on 
his  virtues  with  enthusiasm. 

It  was  a  story  so  agreeable  to  relate  that  it  lasted  far  beyond 
the  limits  of  an  ordinary  fairy  tale,  and  I  was  startled  by  the 
arrival  of  a  cab,  from  Avhicli  my  brother  Max  jumped  out  and 
rapped  at  the  front  door  in  a  great  hurry. 

"  Molly,"  cried  he,  as  he  came  running  up  the  stairs,  "  Vera 
wants  to  know  if  you  have  forgotten  her?" 

"  No,  indeed,  I  am  going  to  set  out  this  very  minute,  Max.  I 
did  not  know  it  was  so  late." 


416  OUR      CO  US  IX      VERONICA. 

"  Make  haste  then ;  put  your  bonnet  on  as  fast  as  possible," 
he  cried. 

I  did  not  keep  him  waiting,  and  as  we  went  down  the  stairs 
he  said: 

"Veronica  fancied  that  you  might  be  detained  by  Tyrell. 
Susan,  if  a  strange  gentleman  comes  here  and  inquires  for  Miss 
Mandeville,  tell  him  she  is  at  Fenton's  Hotel,  in  St.  James  street, 
where  lie  had  better  come  and  find  her.  And  tell  him,  too,  I 
did  not  get  his  letter  till  this  morning." 

"  Tyrell  in  England,  Max  ?"  I  cried. 

Max  nodded,   as  he   placed   himself  in  the   cab   beside  me. 

"Here  is  a  letter  from  him,  dated  a  week  ago  in  Liverpool,  and 
directed  to  Castleton.  I  thought  it  likely  that  when  he  found 
that  he  received  no  answer,  he  would  come  up  to  town,  and,  as 
he  knows  your  address,  that  he  would  come  first  to  you." 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  417 


CHAPTER    II. 

Fate's  pure  marble  lies  so  whitely, 
Formlessly  between  us  cast. 

I  have  wrought  and  studied  slightly, 

Thou  who  knowest  all  things  rightly, 

From  my  heart's  love,  but  not  lightly, 
Mould  a  friendship  that  shall  last. 

MRS.  S.  G-.  HOWE  :    Passion  Flowers. 

Nor  would  it  derogate  from  her  fair  perfections, 

If  she  should  hold  her  best  affections  free 

To  change  as  times  change;  with  no  wanton  lightness, 

Nor  on  vain  pretexts  ;  'nor  from  those  that  are, 

To  those  who  are  not  worthy. 

II.  TAYLOR  :    Isaac  Comnenus. 

IT  was  past  one  o'clock,  and  Veronica  was  dressed  when  we 
arrived.  She  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  their  sitting-room, 
in  full  court  costume,  and  my  first  involuntary  exclamation  was, 

"Oh!  how  beautiful!" 

She  made  a  court  courtesy  to  her  husband,  and  her  eyes 
danced  with  pleasure  at  the  sight  of  his  admiration. 

Her  dress  was  white — all  white,  as  it  should  be  for  a  first  pre 
sentation  ;  and  on  the  glittering  folds  of  the  train  of  watered 
sillc,  the  priceless  lace  she  wore  (an  heir-loom  from  George  the 
Second's  day)  lay  with  singular  advantage.  Soft  feathers  droop 
ing  from  her  head,  added  to  her  dignity,  and  the  beauty  of  her 
point  cPAlencon  lappets  was  as  "  rich  as  it  was  rare."  The  last 
touch  had  boon  given  to  her  beauty  by  a  present  from  Max. 


418  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

"  I  should  not  have  known  my  wife  had  she  worn  nothing 
red,"  he  said,  pointing  to  his  gift  of  diamonds  and  carbuncles. 

"  White  and  red  is  my  favorite  combination,"  said  Veronica, 
shaking  her  head,  till  the  red  light  glowed  from  the  jewels  in 
her  ears  ;  "  but  it  is  in  defiance  of  the  rules  of  taste,  I  know,  for 
any  blonde  to  deck  herself  in  that  color." 

As  she  said  this,  the  door  opened,  and  the  servant  brought  in 
a  card. 

"  Oh !  ask  him  to  walk  up,"  she  cried,  and  in  a  moment  after 
cousin  Tyrell  came  into  the  room. 

I  watched  the  effect  upon  him  as  he  entered.  He  was 
startled  by  that  radiant  vision,  as  holding  her  train  with  one 
hand,  she  came  forward  with  the  other  held  out  to  give  him  an 
eager  greeting.  I  fancied  he  changed  color.  My  heart  beat 
fast  with  sympathy  for  what  I  thought  it  likely  he  must  feel 
when  he  thus  beheld  her. 

His  greeting,  however,  was  self-possessed,  cordial,  cheery,  and 
cousinly — not  different  from  that  he  gave  to  me.  He  was  very 
little  changed — a  trifle  stouter,  perhaps,  and  his  bearing  was  a 
little  freer;  and  he  had' paid  a  traveller's  respect  to  the  great 
city  of  the  earth  "  in  all  its  glory,"  by  a  little  more  attention  to 
his  dress,  than  in  the  days  when  he  wore  old  coats  at  Stone- 
henge,  or  rode  about  the  country  in  green  baize  gaiters. 

"  Are  these  your  children,  cousin  Max,"  he  said,  smiling  at 
Charles  and  Thomasine,  who  were  wrondering  at  their  beautiful 
mother  from  a  corner  of  the  sitting-room.  She  went  across  the 
room,  and  taking  Charlie  by  the  hand,  led  him  to  cousin  Tyrell, 
saying,  as  she  did  so, 

"  This  little  fellow  is  too  small  to  take  your  name  in  vain ; 
you  must  let  him  call  you  uncle." 

"Uncle  Tyrell,"  he  repeated,  with  a  certain  thoughtfulness,  as 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  419 

if  the  word  had  struck  upon  a  chord  of  feeling.  "  Uncle 
Tyrell !  Come  here,  my  little  nephew,  and  make  acquaintance 
with  your  new  uncle." 

Max,  who  had  retired  to  prepare  for  court,  soon  came  back  in 
his  handsome  scarlet  uniform.  Before  they  started,  the  luncheon 
was  brought  up,  and  lie  insisted  that  his  wife  should  eat  a  plate 
of  soup.  She  took  it  standing.  Little  Thornasine,  who  was 
watching  her,  begged  hard  to  taste  of  it ;  and  Veronica,  whose 
management  leaned  to  the  side  of  indulgence,  told  her  to  get 
upon  a  chair  and  she  should  have  a  spoonful. 

The  carriages  were  beginning  to  pass  the  window,  and  Max 
had  called  Tyrell  and  me  to  view  the  plumed  ladies,  handsome 
horses,  and  gay  liveries,  but  we  turned  from  the  show  as  the 
beautiful  mother,  standing  behind  her  child,  who  was  mounted 
on  the  chair,  put  her  white,  jewelled  arms  about  her  neck,  and 
gave  her  the  promised  spoonful. 

I  never  had  been  so  struck  with  the  beauty  of  motherhood. 
Her  womanly,  sweet  action,  crowned  her  with  a  higher  grace 
than  all  her  other  loveliness.  My  first  feeling  was  a  fear  lest 
Tyrell  noticed  it  as  I  did.  My  next  was  to  despise  myself. 
Why  should  I  not  wish  Tyrell  to  acknowledge  the  beauty  of  my 
sister  ?  It  had  been  no  anxiety  that  he  should  suffer  which  had 
given  rise  to  that  bad  feeling ;  it  was  a  selfish  consciousness  that 
I,  in  the  background,  in  my  plain  grey  dress,  could  bear  no  com 
parison  with  Veronica.  I  was  afraid  to  meet  the  eye  of  Tyrell. 

The  carriage  was  at  the  door. 

"Good  bye,  good  bye,"  cried  Max.  "Molly,  you  have  prom 
ised  to  stay  here  and  take  care  of  the  children  till  we  return, 
and  wo  shall  keep  you  and  Tyrell  to  dinner.  We  shall  drive 
round  to  your  house  when  we  leave  the  drawing-room,  and  show 
ourselves  to  Marraaduke,  and  Clara,  and  the  other  children.  I 

18* 


420  OUR     COUSIN      VERONICA. 

promised  them  \ve  would.  And  I  shall  tell  your  mother  not 
to  expect  you  home  till  .after  dinner." 

They  were  gone,  and  Tyrell  and  I  were  left  with  the  luncheon, 
and  the  children,  and  the  window  overlooking  the  procession. 
We  stood  there  some  time  silently,  and  watched  the  ladies  in 
court-plumes,  as  they  passed  us  in  their  well-appointed  carriages, 
carriages  so  strangely  different  from  those  in  Old  Virginia.  I 
saw  several  persons  that  I  knew,  amongst  them  Sir  Colin  and 
Lady  Ellen  Nasmyth,  the  latter  with  a  harassed  look  and  a  dis 
dainful  air,  as  she  looked  out  upon  the  crowd  that  fringed  the 
kerb-stone. 

"  There  is  a  gentleman  bowing  to  you  in  that  carriage,"  said 
Tyrell.  "  He  seems  to  w7ant  to  catch  your  eye.  A  handsome 
aristocratic  man,  who  looks  the  high-bred  Englishman,  beside  a 
dowdy,  little  dark  woman." 

"  That,"  said  I,  with  no  touch  of  faltering  in  my  voice,  "  is  the 
new  Sir  Harris  Howard,  going  with  his  wife  to  be  presented  on 
his  accession  to  the  Baronetcy." 

"Do  they  live  in  London?"  said  Tyrell. 

"No,"  I  replied,  "but  they  have  come  up  here  for  the  season, 
and  have  been  quite  attentive  to  Veronica  and  Max,  since  they 
have  been  in  town." 

Tyrell  said  nothing  more,  and  we  continued  to  watch  the  car 
riages.  When  nearly  all  had  passed,  we  left  the  window,  and  sat 
down.  Tyrell  began  to  tell  me  of  the  people,  white  and  black, 
over  the  Ridge.  He  had  lots  of  funny  stories  about  cousin  Phil ; 
he  was  just  as  merry  as  he  used  to  be — he  laughed,  and  talked, 
and  played  with  the  children,  and  the  afternoon  passed  away  so 
rapidly  and  pleasantly  that  I  was  startled  when  the  door  opened 
and  Veronica  and  Max,  accompanied  by  Marmaduke,  came  back 
from  the  drawing-room. 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  421 

;'  Well,"  said  Tyrell,  "  did  you  have  a  pleasant  time  ?" 

"  We  had  a  real,  first-rate  time,"  said  Veronica,  laughing,  as 

she  answered  his  Americanism  in  American.     "  It  was  a  great 

deal  less  formidable  than  I  expected,  Molly." 
"  Did  you  find  many  people  whom  you  knew  ?" 
"  Yes,  several.      I  talked  a  long  time  to  Lady  Ellen  Nasmyth, 

whom  Max  introduced  me  to/' 

While  our  chat  about  the  drawing-room  was  carried  on,  the 

O  ' 

table  was  being  set  for  dinner,  and  Veronica  sat  down  to  eat 
it  in  her  court-dress,  laughing  at  the  inconvenience  of  her  cos 
tume,  as  she  disposed  her  train  over  the  back  of  her  chair. 

Marmaduke,  who  had  had  his  eyes  fixed  upon  Tyrell  ever 
since  he  came  into  the  room,  leaned  over  to  me  and  said  some 
thing  in  a  whisper. 

"  What  is  that,  Duke  ?"  exclaimed  Max.  "  No  whispering 
in  company.  Say  out  what  you  want  to  say  to  your  sister." 

"  I  only  wanted  to  know,"  said  Duke,  "  whether  that  is  the 
cousin  Tyrell  Molly  was  telling  us  about  this  morning,  who  she 
said  was  so  good,  so  much  better  than  anybody  else  in  the  world, 
and  she  hoped  Charles  and  I  should  be  just  like  him  when  we 
grew  older." 

I  felt  that  I  was  blushing  distressingly.  I  had  no  objection 
that  Tyrell  should  know  my  high  opinion  of  his  character  (or 
rather  I  should  have  had  no  objection  a  feAv  hours  before,  that 
he  should  know  it),  but  now  I  had  grown  shy  and  conscious, 
and  to  have  it  blurted  out  in  this  way  by  Duke,  was  very  dis 
agreeable. 

After  the  coffee,  when  I  had  helped  Veronica  to  resume  her 
usual  dress,  and  kissed  the  children  sleeping  in  their  cribs,  I  put 
on  my  bonnet  to  go  home  with  Marmaduke,  but  Tyrell  insisted  on 
escorting  njf.  When  we  were  in  the  street,  [  found  him  so  eager 


422  OUR     COTJSIN      VERONICA. 

about  London  sights  that  I  asked  him,  laughing,  how  he  could 
have  wasted  a  whole  afternoon  at  Fenton's,  instead  of  going  in 
search  of  St.  Paul's  and  the  Tower,  which  he  appeared  to  be 
looking  for  round  every  corner,  lie  answered  he  had  been  bet 
ter  employed,  but  that  he  meant  to  be  very  eager  about  sight-see 
ing  the  next  day  ;  and  finding  that  the  children  knew  nothing  of 
the  London  sights,  and  that  I  was  not  familiar  with  half  the 
objects  that  made  up  his  idea  of  London,  he  went  into  the  house 
with  me  and  urged  Mrs.  Mandeville  to  let  him  bring  a  carriage  the 
next  morning  and  take  me  and  all  the  children  to  see  the  Tower 
and  the  Tunnel.  Mrs.  Mandeville  was  very  willing.  Tyrell's  cousin- 
ship,  distant  as  it  was,  was  allowed  to  meet  the  question  of  pro 
priety,  and  for  a  fortnight  we  were  all  engaged  in  seeing  traveller's 
sights,  not  merely  those  the  ordinary  visitor  to  London  sees,  but 
we  visited  all  sorts  of  queer  localities  connected  with  the  past 
history  of  London,  which  Tyrell's  extensive  acquaintance  with 
the  literary  history  and  private  memories  of  the  18th  century, 
made  very  interesting.  We  walked  down  Bread  street,  and 
asked  a  grocer's  woman  if  she  could  tell  us  in  which  house  John 
Milton  had  lived. 

"  Lord  no !"  said  she.  "  I've  lived  'ere  fifteen  year,  and  in  that 
time  there's  been  so  many  broke  and  gone  away,  that  I'm  sure 
I  can't  tell  you  anything  about  'em." 

"And  such  is  fame,"  said  Tyrell,  "even  the  fame  of  Milton. 
We  talk  of  a  literary  reputation  as  more  enduring  than  an 
empire,  we  talk  of  extending  it  by  translations  into  all  manner 
of  strange  languages,  but  what  if,  after  all,  our  greatest  chance 
of  extending  it  among  our  race  were  by  letting  the  knowledge 
of  our  greatest  minds  soak  more  into  the  masses,  by  making 
Milton  and  Shakespeare  familiar  among  the  millions  who  already 
speak  and  ought  to  read  and  write  our  English  tongue  ?" 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  423 

But  the  place  where  Tyrell  liked  to  go  the  best  was  to  after 
noon  service  at  Westminster  Abbey.  Transplanted  as  I  had  been 
from  spot  to  spot,  there  was  no  place  upon  earth  for  which  I  had 
so  strong  and  personal  an  attachment  as  for  Westminster,  and  it 
was  pleasant  to  find  that  Tyrell  shared  it.  We  sat  together 
evening  after  evening  under  the  glorious  fret-work  of  the  roof; 
the  variegated  light  falling,  as  the  sun-set  shone  through  the 
west  window  upon  the  fretted  arches,  on  our  faces  and  my 
drapery,  and  then  the  evening  shadows  quietly  stole  in,  making 
the  tracery  of  the  roof  misty  and  vague,  till  all  the  place  was 
dim  with  solemn  twilight.  I  have  knelt  there  with  an  aching 
heart — knelt  beside  Tyrell,  who  could  not  read  my  thoughts, 
and  prayed  to  be  delivered  from  impending  evil  and  temptation. 

"  Molly,"  cried  Max,  bursting,  about  noon  one  day,  into  the 
little  front  parlor,  that  I  called  my  school-room,  "Veronica 
says  that  she  is  tired  of  London,  and  she  thinks  the  children  are 
looking  pale,  and  we  are  going  home  next  week.  Tyrell  has 
promised  to  go  down  with  us,  and  we  want  you  to  pack  your 
trunk  and  spend  a  month  at  Castleton." 

"  I  do  not  think  I  can,  Max,"  I  said  in  a  low  voice.  "  I  will 
come  a  month  later  if  you  like,  but  at  present  I  do  not  think 
I  can  go  down  to  Castleton." 

"  Nonsense !"  cried  Max.  "  Why,  you  promised  Veronica  to 
go  back  with  us !  She  depends  upon  it.  You  are  the  oddest 
girl !  I  shall  ask  Mrs.  Mandeville  about  it.  Why  a  day  or  two 
ago  you  were  talking  of  your  visit.  She  is  going  to  take  the 
children  to  the  sea-side  and  can  perfectly  well  spare  you." 

Tyrell,  who  had  entered  with  Max,  was  standing  by  when  this 
was  said,  and  he  looked  troubled.  As  Max  went  out  of  the  room, 
he  said  in  a  low  voice  : 

"Is  it  because  T  am    oin    to  Castleton  ?"     . 


424  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

The  question  took  me  by  surprise.  I  could  not  answer  it  for 
a  moment ;  then  I  said :  "  It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  go 
now.  Max  will  not  be  much  disappointed." 

Tyrell  made  no  answer.     There  was  a  painful  pause. 

"  Come  along  Tyrell,"  said  Max  looking  in.  "  We  promised 
to  be  back  at  the  hotel  by  two  o'clock.  Molly,  I  am  sorry  I 
have  no  better  news  to  carry  to  Veronica." 

"  I  will  follow  you  presently.  In  a  half  an  hour,  perhaps," 
said  Tyrell. 

He  waited  a  few  moments  till  Max  had  left  the  house,  and  then 
he  asked  me  if  I  would  walk  with  him  that  afternoon  to  West 
minster  Abbey.  There  was  something  strange  in  his  tone. 
My  instinct  told  me  that  a  crisis  was  at  hand,  of  what  nature  I 
could  not  guess,  but  I  put  up  my  work  and  said  I  should  be  glad 
to  go. 

When  I  came  down  Duke  was  asking  Tyrell  to  take  him  too, 
but  Tyrell,  with  his  gentle,  but  decided  way,  against  which  no 
one  could  appeal,  said  :  "  No,  my  man,  you  must  stay  at  home 
this  afternoon.  I  have  something  that  I  want  to  talk  about  to 

O 

your  sister  Molly." 

An  object  in  this  walk  was  thus  announced.  I  took  his  arm 
and  we  walked  on  in  silence,  through  Oxford  street,  down 
Regent  street,  and  Waterloo  Place,  and  descended  the  broad 
steps  that  lead  into  St.  James'  Park  behind  the  column  ;  still 
Tyrell  did  not  speak  nor  did  I. 

It  was  but  two  o'clock  when  we  passed  the  Horse  Guards 
and  it  was  too  early  for  Westminster  Abbey.  Tyrell  drew  me 
to  the  ornamental  water,  and  choosing  a  vacant  bench  beneath 
a  tree,  placed  me  upon  it,  and  was  about  to  seat  himself  beside 
me.  A  little  hesitation  in  my  manner  made  bum  pause. 

"Do  you  objoct  ?''  lif  said. 


OUR      COUSIN     VERONICA.  425 

"  It  is  very  like  nursery-maids  and  Life  Guardsmen,"  I  replied. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  I  am  about  as  much  like,  one  of  those  giants  in 
bear's  skin,  as  you  are  like  a  nursery-maid.  You  are  tired,  and 
we  cannot  do  better  than  take  this  bench,"  he  said,  seating  him 
self  at  my  side. 

Again  we  were  both  silent.  My  thoughts  had  been  busy  ever 
since  wo  set  out,  with  reminiscences  of  our  acquaintance  and 
intimacy.  I  had  been  trying  to  look  into  the  depths  of 
my  own  heart,  but  the  waters  had  been  troubled,  and  I  could 
see  nothing  clearly.  That  heart  was  like  a  troubled  sea  that 
could  not  rest.  Its  Avaters  cast  up  mire  and  dirt,  and  gold  and 
gems.  Sometimes  there  was  a  thought  that  Tyrell  might, 
perhaps,  care  for  me,  and  then  I  flung  that  thought  away  with 
all  my  strength.  It  was  not  so — he  did  not  care.  Of  all  the 
people  in  the  world  I  was  the  one  who  ought  least  to  have 
suspected  him  of  a  second  attachment.  What  was  I  that  I 
should  succeed  to  such  a  woman  as  Veronica  ? 

Another  fear  presented  itself — presented  itself  with  a  refrain. 

"  Why  did  he  marry  Fulvia  and  not  love  her  ?" 

That  unanswered  question  from  the  lips  of  Cleopatra.  And  I 
strengthened  myself  with  the  thought  that  if,  unhappy  in  his 
bachelorhood,  he  stood  upon  the  brink  of  such  an  error,  he 
would  be  rescued  from  it  by  my  resolution. 

At  length  I  saw  he  was  about  to  speak.  I  turned  to  him. 
But  the  words  failed  him. 

The  pause  became  more  painful.  I  felt  that  I  had  probably 
been  in  error — had  deceived  myself  into  the  belief  that  Tyrell 
had  something  of  consequence  to  say  to  me;  and  I  despised 
myself  for  having  given  audience  for  a  moment  to  the  vain, 
rash  thoughts  which  I  had  been.indulgino;. 


42G  OtTR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

At  length,  and  while  I  was  yet  chiding  myself  for  imagining 
he  meant  to  speak,  words  came. 

"  Cousin  Molly,"  he  said,  "  if  you  knew  nothing  of  the  past,  it 
would  be  easy  to  speak  to  you  of  my  present  feelings.  '  I  love 
you,'  could  be  quickly  said ;  but  in  this  case  there  is  so  much 
that  ought  to  be  said  first.  You  know  that  if  any  man  ever 
cherished  a  strong,  true  passion  for  a  woman,  I  did  for  your  sis 
ter  Veronica." 

"  I  know  it — indeed  I  know  it,  cousin  Tyrell ;"  and  my  old 
sympathy  for  his  disappointment  was  so  strong,  and  so  habitual, 
that  I  overlooked  for  a  moment  that  he  had  just  declared  himself 
my  lover,  and  laid  my  hand  on  his  to  enforce  my  sympathy. 

"  When  I  knew  you  in  Virginia,"  he  went  on  to  say,  "  my 
thoughts  were  full  of  her.  The  goodness  and  the  beauty  of 
other  women  seemed  to  pass  before  me  like  the  shadows  of  a 
dream,  and  I  regarded  them  not.  But,  cousin  Molly,  after  you 
went  away — after  the  suffering  past,  I  found  something  in  my 
heart  that  I  did  not  expect,  and  that  something  was  your 
image.  I  do  not  say  I  loved  you — that  would  be  untrue  ;  but 
you  were  different  to  me  from  all  other  women  ;  and  the  thought 
strengthened.  Every  thing  I  heard  about  you,  every  one  of  the 
few  lines  I  have  received  from  you,  strengthened  this  fond 
remembrance,  and  where  the  roso  had  been  cut  down  grew  up 
the  violet.  I  formed  an  ideal  of  true  womanhood,  and  found  it 
was  made  up  of  what  I  knew  of  Mary  Mandeville.  I  distrusted 
myself.  I  thought,  perhaps,  that  this  ideal  was  all  fancy ;  and 
still  more,  I  doubted  whether  I  had  any  right  to  intrude  this 
love  on  you.  I  came  to  England  at  length  to  solve  these  doubts. 
I  find  you  a  great  deal  more  than  all  my  memory  or  my  fancy 
shadowed  you.  And  now  it  is  to  you  I  bring  the  other 
doubt.  Cousin  Molly,  tell  me,  shall  I  go  away,  or  may  I  from 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  427 

this  day  begin  a  courtship,  whose  chief  object  must  be  to  con 
vince  you  of  the  possibility  of  a  second  attachment  ?" 

My  tears  were  falling  fast — great,  slow,  heavy  drops,  falling 
one  by  one. 

"  Oh !  cousin  Tyrell,"  I  said,  "  I  did  not  dare  to  entertain  the 
thought  that  you  were  feeling  thus." 

"  Molly !  shall  I  ever  make  you  love  me  ?" 

"  I  think  so,  cousin  Tyrell." 

u  Do  you  care  for  me,  dear  Molly  ?" 

"  Oh !  Tyrell,  I  have  tried  not  to — so  much." 

Tyrell  started  up  ;  a  happy  light  was  in  his  eyes  ;  he  seemed 
like  a  new  man. 

"  I  never  dared  to  hope  for  this.  I  thought  you  had  discov 
ered  my  Avishes,  and  that  you  wanted  to  prove  to  me  my  suit 
was  vain,  by  avoiding  me  at  Castleton." 

"  Oh  !  no,  I  was  afraid  to  trust  myself." 

And  happy  moments  came  and  went.  It  seemed  so  strange 
to  think  our  happiness  was  for  life,  and  could  not  be  disturbed. 
It  seemed  impossible  to  believe,  that  when  we  broke  the  stillness 
of  those  moments  of  bliss,  the  happy  feelings  would  not  pass 
away. 

As  we  sat  there,  the  great  clock  at  the  Horse  Guards  rang 
out  three.  Tyrell  started  and  said, 

"  We  shall  be  very  late  for  service  at  the  Abbey." 

I  thanked  him  in  my  heart  for  that  suggestion,  for  it  seemed 
to  me  as  if  the  calm  half-hour  of  cathedral  service  would  conse 
crate  our  happiness — as  if  under  its  influence  I  could  grow  com 
posed. 

And  when  I  knelt  by  Tyrell's  side,  and  prayed  for  the  bles 
sings  of  heaven  upon  us  both — and  yet,  in  praying  for  both,  felt 
I  was  praying  for  one — a  holy,  happy  calmness  stole  into  my 


428  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

heart,  and  I  looked  up  at  Tyrell.  He  was  gazing  upwards  to 
where  the  evening  sun  threw  purple,  gold,  and  crimson  shadows. 
But  it  seemed  to  me  his  thoughts  were  beyond  shadows  or  sun, 
and  had  entered  into  the  very  presence  of  the  Eternal. 

At  that  moment  the  anthem  began,  sung  by  the  boys'  sweet 
flute-like  voices ;  and  the  last  words  of  that  anthem  sank  into 
both  our  hearts,  reminding  me  of  the  evening  when  Tyrell  told 
me  of  his  earlier  love.  It  was  a  sort  of  comment  on  our  past 
history,  and  we  prayed  that  the  lesson  which  it  taught  might 
never  be  forgotten.  "  Oh !  tarry  thou  the  Lord's  leisure.  Be 
strong  and  he  shall  comfort  thine  heart ;  and  put  thou  thy  trust 
in  the  Lord." 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  429 


CHAPTER  III. 

I  would  have  brought  so  clear  a  light 
Between  the  slave  and  his  oppressor, 
That  straight  the  greater  had  become 
The  loving  guardian  of  the  lesser. 

MRS.  S.  G.  HOWE  :   Passion  Flotcers. 

WE  walked  in  silence  from  the  abbey.  I  knew  that  Tyrell  was 
looking  at  me,  and  I  would  not  look  up.  At  length  he  said, 
pressing  the  hand  that  lay  upon  his  arm,  closer  to  his  heart : 

"  Are  you  happy  ?" 

"  Ah  !  Tyrell so  happy  !"  Then  after  a  little  pause  I  said. 

"  There  is  but  one  thing  to  mar  the  fullness  of  my  happiness — and 
that  is  slavery.  Oh !  Tyrell,  how  I  wish  that  you  were  not  a 
slave  owner !" 

Tyrell  was  silent  a  moment,  then  he  said  :  "  Will  you  shrink 
from  bearing  with  me  the  weight  of  that  responsibility  ?" 

"  No,"  I  replied,  "  but  I  wish  it  were  any  other." 

Tyrell  looked  grieved.  "I  cannot  make  it  any  other,"  he 
replied.  "  I  have  foreseen  that  this  subject  might  make  trial  and 
difficulty  for  you.  But  I  hoped  that  you  might  share  my  views 
of  the  duty  and  responsibility  that  God  has  laid  on  me." 

"  Will  it  never  be  possible  to  emancipate  them,"  I  suggested 
timidly. 

"  The  day  is  more  distant  than  it  once  appeared  to  be,"  said 
Tyrell.  "  But  suppose  I  set  them  free  at  once — remember  dear 


430  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

Molly,  that  my  place  in  life  has  made  me  the  guardian  of  their 
happiness  and  welfare,  and  that  I  ought  not  to  be  drawn  aside 
from  the  fulfillment  of  that  duty,  by  the  pursuit  of  any  theory  or 
experiment.  You  will  grant,  of  course,  that  the  duty  of  all 
others,  that  '  lies  nearest  to  me,'  is  to  do  the  best  I  can  for  the 
real  good  and  real  happiness  of  my  people." 

"  Of  course,"  I  said,  a  little  wondering,  for  these  were  hardly 
the  views  I  had  expected  to  find  a  slave  owner  taking  of  the 
subject. 

"  Well  then,  to  do  unto  others  as  we  would  they  should  do 
unto  us,  means  that  so  far  as  in  us  lies,  we  must  seek  what  we 
conscientiously  believe  to  be  their  true  good.  There  are  sixty- 
seven  servants,  little  children  and  ao-ed  included,  at  Stoneheno;e, 

'  O  O     ' 

suppose  I  set  them  free  to-day,  what  is  to  become  of  them?" 
"  Could  not  they  continue  to  live  as  laborers  on  your  estate  ?" 
"  The  State  discourages  a  free-colored  population,  and  the  laws 
are  becoming  every  day  more  stringent.     They  must  emigrate. 
They  will  not  be  suffered  to  remain  amongst  us." 
"  What  a  cruel  law  !" 

"  That  is  not  the  point.  You  are  wandering  away  from  the 
practical  view  that  I  am  wishing  you  to  take.  I  am  not  a  legis 
lator,  but  only  an  individual  anxious  to  do  his  duty  under  exist 
ing  circumstances.  Archbishop  Leighton  says  :  '  Would  to 
God  men  were  but  as  holy  as  it  is  possible  to  be  under  the 
worst  forms  now  amongst  us !'  It  is  a  good  working  principle 
applied  in  any  case.  Perhaps  you  are  right  about  that  law.  It 
gives  rise  to  misery,  which  falls  the  heaviest  upon  the  best  class 
of  our  servants.  Man-land,  in  which  the  free  colored  population 
outnumbers  the  slaves,  is  very  prosperous.  Well  then — since 
my  people  must  emigrate,  where  shall  they  go  ?" 
"  Into  the  free  States !" 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  431 

"  Who  wants  them  at  the  North  ?  Are  you  in  the  least  aware 
to  what  unfavorable  influences  you  would  consign  people  who 
are  particularly  susceptible  of  influences  ?  Did  you  ever  watch 
the  history  of  the  decline  and  fall  of  nine  out  of  ten  families  of 
colored  emigrants  to  the  northern  States  ?  I  believe,  upon  my 
conscience,  that  the  worst  sufferings  of  the  colored  race  are  in 
the  North,  and  in  the  great  day  of  account  we  shall  know  more 
than  we  do  now,  of  the  sin  of  the  prejudices  which  have 
trampled  them  down.  Many  of  those  prejudices  are  due  to  the 
misguided  zeal  of  men  who  call  themselves  their  friends,  and  use 
them  in  the  war  of  party  as  offensive  weapons.  What  is  done 
by  society — by  philanthrophy — for  their  social,  moral,  and 
religious  elevation  ?  It  is  a  blot  on  the  humanity  of  the  free 
States.  Missionaries  and  missionaries'  wives  are  sent  to  die  in 
pestilential  Africa  amongst  the  heathen,  while  no  man  gathers  into 
Sunday-schools  and  churches  colored  children  and  adults,  who 
grow  up  like  heathen  in  northern  cities.  Men  who  are  crying 
out  against  our  institution  are  making  it  impossible  for  us  to 
emancipate.  The  great  missionary  work  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  the  civilization  and  Christianization  of  a  mighty  con 
tinent,  is  lying  neglected  at  their  doors.  Rum  has  been  at  the 
bottom  of  almost  every  case  of  native  American  destitution, 
unconnected  with  ill  health.  You  miofht  as  well  hold  water  in 

O 

a  cullender  as  to  attempt  permanently  to  benefit  any  family  of 
pauper  Irish,  who  besides  are  removed  from  your  influence  by 
their  religion  ;  but  there  is  a  race  docile  and  fond  of  guidance — 
and  who  labors  to  elevate  it  ?  They  are  thrust  out  of  all  trades 
— they  are  crowded  out  of  churches — they  share  little  in  the 
boasted  benefits  of  school-funds  and  northern  education — they 
have  no  place  madejbr  them  in  Sabbath-schools.  Every  ship,  as 
it  lands  its  freight  of  Celtic  or  Saxon  laborers  upon  our  shores, 


432  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

drives  one  or  two  of  this  unhappy  race  out  of  an  honest  living. 
Ignorance,  oppression,  degradation,  and  the  influence  of  political 
agitators  foster  the  classes  dangcreuses,  and  the  North  may  be 
thankful  that  the  rigors  of  the  climate,  unfavorable  to  the  consti 
tution  of  the  negro,  keep  down  the  increase  of  the  colored  popula 
tion,  though  '  Was  I  my  brother's  keeper  ?'  will  be  no  answer  to 
God's  accusation  against  society,  when  the  voice  of  their  blood  is 
calling  from  the  ground.  They  have  none  of  the  ambition,  spirit, 
energy,  and  self-devotion  to  an  abstract  principle,  which  carried 
the  Puritan  fathers  across  the  ocean,  '  not  knowing  whither  they 
went.'  It  rarely  occurs  to  the  more  intelligent  and  educated 
amongst  them  to  seek  their  fortunes  under  more  propitious 
influences.  The  enterprising  and  educated  take  up  the  trade  of 
political  agitation.  The  mass  sink  into  squalid  streets  in  the 
black  quarter  of  large  cities.  The  parents  may  have  striven  to 
live  honestly,  but  the  children,  exposed  to  vicious  influences,  and 
never  brought  into  elevating  contact  with  the  better  class  of 
whites,  succumb  to  evil  habits.  I  am  not  going  to  expose  my 
people  and  their  descendants  to  that  fate.  Have  you  no  better 
way  of  disposing  of  them  ?" 

"  Liberia,"  said  I. 

"  Aye,"  he  replied.  "  I  look  forward  in  faith  to  Liberia.  We 
may  live  to  see  a  mighty  Exodus  which  shall  carry  civilization 
and  Christianity  to  a  continent  whose  climate  places  it  beyond 
the  influence  of  any  other  Christian  emigration.  The  experiment 
has  been  nobly  made — by  noble  men — the  noblest  being  of  that 
race  which  has  not  elsewhere  had  the  opportunity  of  proving 
itself  noble.  If  everybody  took  the  same  interest  in  Liberia  that 
I  do,  they  would  make  it  their  duty  to  attempt,  so  far  as  pos 
sible,  the  elevation  and  improvement  of  the  colored  people 
round  them.  We  have  no  right  to  swamp  the  colony  with 


OUR     COUSIN     VERONICA.  433 

ignorant  paupers.  We  ought  to  do  our  part  to  make  those  who 
corne  under  our  influence  Christian  and  industrious,  to  give  them 
trades  that  may  be  useful  to  them  as  colonists,  should  they  ever 
become  such,  and,  so  far  as  is  possible,  an  education.  Education* 
however,  is  not  confined  to  book-learning.  Believe  me,  my 
Molly,  I  never  forget  that  many,  or  all  my  people,  may  yet 
emigrate  to  Liberia,  or  at  least,  their  descendants.  I  am  quite 
ready  to  send  any  one  from  my  estate  desirous  to  go,  at  any 
time.  But  there  have  been  great  prejudices  among  the  colored 
race  against  Liberia.  Prejudices  founded  upon  ignorance,  and 
many  absurd  negro  notions.  These  prejudices  are  beginning  to 
disappear  as  the  colony  grows  prosperous,  but  still  at  present 
there  is  little  to  tempt  an  ignorant  and  unambitious  negro 
laborer,  on  a  kind  master's  estate,  to  give  up  a  home  where  he 
is  happy,  and  go  out  to  an  unknown  country,  merely  for  the 
boon  of  freedom.  The  negro  does  not  think  of  Liberia  except 
under  the  pressure  of  necessity.  Few  spontaneously  turn  their 
attention  in  that  direction.  It  is  always  an  alternative.  As  I 
have  said,  any  of  my  people  may  have  their  freedom  if  they 
want  to  emigrate  to  Africa,  and  rather  than  pass  into  the  hands 
of  a  new  master  I  do  not  doubt  they  would  accept  it ;  but  many 
have  married  off  the  estate,  they  could  not  take  their  families 
with  them,  and  are  bound  by  many  ties  to  the  soil." 

"  It  is  a  risk  too,"  I  said,  "  to  expose  them  to  the  climate  and 
the  fever." 

"  As  civilization  increases,"  Tyrell  replied,  "  the  danger  of  the 
acclimating  fever  grows  less  and  less.  With  respect  to  health,  I 
think  I  would  rather  send  my  people  to  Liberia  than  Massachu 
setts.  Of  two  emigrants  with  an  equal  number  of  children — 
one  to  New  England  and  the  other  to  Africa, — the  latter  would 
be  likely  to  have  the  larger  number  of  descendants.  The 

19 


434  OUR      COUSIN      VEROXICA. 

hardships  of  emigration  to  Liberia  fall  upon  the  people  you 
send  out, — their  children  are  nearly  sure  to  prosper.  The  con 
trary  is  the  case  with  emancipated  slaves  who  settle  beyond 
Mason  and  Dixon." 

"  Then  there  is  nothing  to  be  done,"  I  said,  "  but  to  do  our 
duty,  and  wait." 

"  Dear  Molly,"  said  Tyrell,  "  this  has  been  a  strange  conversa 
tion  for  to-day,  but  I  am  glad  that  we  have  had  it  over.  And 
while  I  respect  and  understand  your  English  feelings,  on  this  sub 
ject,  I  am  sincerely  desirous  to  bring  you  over  to  my  views. 
This  matter,  as  a  practical  question  of  everyday  life,  has  greatly 
occupied  my  thoughts.  Will  you  not  trust  my  judgment,  and 
share  in  my  responsibility  ?  I  feel  assured  that  time  will  remove 
many  difficulties — meanwhile,  let  us  do  the  present  duty  that 
lies  nearest  to  us,  and  see  that  our  servants,  when  the  day  of 
emancipation  comes,  are  fit  for  freedom.  I  wish  very  much  I 
could  persuade  you  to  talk  as  little  as  possible  on  this  subject  in 
Virginia,  even  with  persons  who  espouse  your  views.  The  ques 
tion  has  been  so  inflamed  by  poisoned  tongues,  that  it  is  best 
avoided.  The  influence  of  your  quiet  home  efforts  for  the  im 
provement  of  those  around  you,  will  circulate  more  widely  than 
your  opinions  on  the  abstract  right  of  slavery." 

I  looked  up  in  Tyrell's  face.  It  was  a  little  grave,  a  little 
anxious,  and  I  could  not  bear  to  grieve  him. 

"  Dear  Molly,"  he  said,  "  let  it  become  only  a  practical  ques 
tion  with  us." 

And  I  answered,  "  You  are  right,  Tyrell.  I  will  trust  your 
judgment.  We  will  be  of  one  mind  on  this  as  on  all  other  sub 
jects,  as  nearly  as  we  can.  I  have  taken  upon  me  to  share  all 
the  interests  and  duties  of  your  life.  We  will  together  meet  this 
great  responsibility." 


OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA.  435 

"  Preparing  the  way  for  better  times,  beloved,"  lie  said,  look 
ing  at  me  kindly.  "  We  will  not  betray  our  trust,  by  shrinking 
from  the  responsibilities  of  our  order,  like  the  emigres  of  the 
old  Revolution." 

"  And  when  may  we  expect  the  time  when  the  freedom  of 
our  slaves  may  be  less  difficult  than  at  present  ?" 

And  Tyrell  answered  me  in  the  words  of  the  Anthem  which 
had  thrilled  in  our  hearts  that  evening, — "Tarry  thou  the  Lord's 
leisure — and  put  thou  thy  trust  in  the  Lord." 

Our  marriage  was  one  in  which  everybody  rejoiced.  It  was 
celebrated  at  Castleton,  and  then  we  passed  the  winter  on  the 
Continent,  returning  to  the  Valley  of  Virginia  when  the  perfume 
of  the  locust  bloom  was  scenting  all  the  fields.  We  kept  open 
house  for  a  week  after  we  reached  Stonehenge,  and  I  had  a 
second  edition  of  festivities  upon  my  marriage. 

I  know  now  how  the  old  place  looks  when  happy  children 
frolic  on  the  grass,  for  as  I  write  I  watch  my  eldest  boy,  who  has 
his  father's  merry  laugh,  and  sunny  deep  blue  eyes,  throwing 
roses  at  Aunt  Saph,  as  she  sits  on  the  lower  steps  of  the  porch, 
with  the  baby  in  her  arms.  But  to-morrow  Uncle  Christopher 
is  to  cut  down  my  rose  trees  and  transplant  their  roots  to  our 
new  home. 

I  have  been  wandering  about  the  house  all  day.  That  house 
under  the  mountain,  that  was  once  so  gloomy,  where  Tyrell 
suffered  so  much  in  days  that  are  forgotten, — that  house  which 
has  been  long  brightened  by  the  love,  and  peace,  and  happiness 
of  home.  Tyrell  says  my  worst  fault  as  a  wife,  is,  that  I  am 
always  sticking  pins  and  needles  in  the  table-cloth  in  bis  library, 
— that  library  in  which  he  used  to  shut  himself  up,  and  be 
unhappy,  but  I  know  he  likes  to  find  me  in  that  room,  and 


430  OUR      COUSIN      VERONICA. 

thinks  it  brightened  by  my  presence.      Only  last  night  I  heard 
him  whisper  to  himself,  as  he  stood  a  moment  on  the  threshold : 

"  The  very  place  'cos  she  was  in 
Looked  warm  from  floor  to  ceilin." 

To-night  is  our  last  night  in  that  room,  for  a  new  house  with 
all  sorts  of  modern  improvements,  and  better  situated,  has  been 
built  by  Tyrell — we  move  into  it  to-morrow,  and  Stonehenge, 
when  we  have  left  it,  is  to  be  pulled  down. 

Old  Warren  died  at  Oatlands,  and  Tyrell  wrote  to  Max  upon 
the  subject.  Warren,  as  I  said,  had  been  an  English  yeoman 
whom  our  grandfather  brought  with  him  to  this  country  ;  he 
superintended  the  property  with  great  success,  and  Tyrell,  who 
could  not  devote  much  time  to  the  details  of  management  on 
Max's  estate  was  unwilling  to  place  an  ordinary  Yankee  or  Scotch 
manager  upon  the  property. 

Max  answered  his  letter  by  a  proposition  that  Tyrell  should 
buy  the  Oatlands  farm,  on  which  condition  he  was  anxious  to 
give  us  all  the  negroes  who  would  not  consent  to  emigrate  to 
Africa.  Tyrell  and  I  hesitated  a  few  weeks.  It  was  adding  to 
our  responsibility,  but  it  seemed  a  duty  of  mastership  put  into 
our  hands ;  it  was  difficult  to  replace  Warren  with  a  person  we 
could  trust  to  do  his  duty  to  the  servants,  and  there  seemed 
nothing  better  to  be  done. 

The  change  of  ownership  made  a  better  opening  for  our  per- 
suasioEs  in  favor  of  Liberia.  Two  families  consented  to  emigrate, 
the  heads  of  which  were  old  Mammy's  sons,  Uncle  Joe,  and 
Uncle  Pete,  for  whom  Tyrell  purchased  his  family.  Tyrell  saw 
them  embark  at  Baltimore,  and  provided  for  their  favorable  start 
in  life  in  the  colony.  They  have  done  well  there,  and  are  happy. 
We  have  strong  hopes  that  as  our  people  through  the  communi- 


OUR      CO  IT  SIN      VERONICA.  437 

catkuis  from  tliem  become  familiarized  with  Africa,  others  may 
voluntarily  follow  their  example. 

The  person  who  most  neutralizes  our  influence  upon  the  sub 
ject  is  Aunt  Saph,  whose  aristocratic  predilections  for  white 
society  of  the  better  sort,  make  her  an  enemy  to  the  colony. 

"Laws  honey,"  I  heard  her  say  last  week,  "dere  ain't  nothin' 
dere  but  black  faces  to  look  at.  I  never  see  no  good  come  of 
niggers  widout  white  folks  among  'em." 

In  the  Fall  we  hope  to  go  to  England  for  a  visit,  and  shall 
spend  the  fifth  anniversary  of  our  wedding-day  at  Castleton. 


THE     END, 


LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A    000081405 


